Dancing with her Daddy

Sundays have been a challenge for us for a few years now. The past two years have been especially challenging. We believe it is important for us to go to Church with our children, but Oh Lord, how difficult this can be.

Mikail is fine. He has his anxieties about being left at Sunday School while we are upstairs, but he braves through it and has a blast most of the time.

Olivia, on the other hand. Oy. She is a Mama’s girl. She does not want me to leave her anywhere. If I do, you will hear her and it’s not a sweet little cry. It is a paint peeling scream. This is tough. Attachment is healthy, but there is a time where your child has to be okay with not being by Mama’s side all the time.

We have tried leaving Olivia in the toddler room and it always turns into a screaming, hyperventilating fiasco. For a long time, if we took her to the toddler room, and it didn’t matter if we stayed with her or left her there, she would not sleep that next night. What a nightmare. Let’s just say that keeping her by our side or walking the hallways was a better option for all of us.

This past week we have been potty training her, and I’d been noticing that she is being a bit more ‘big girl’ about a lot of things, so Sunday morning we talked about Church and built it up. We talked about being brave and staying in the toddler room. All the way to Church she was doing self talk about being brave. It was quite cute.

When the time came, I took her to the toddler room and she bravely walked into the room. Usually I have had to carry her in, kicking and screaming. She found some toys, but always made sure I was there. I talked about having to go soon, but coming back to pick her up soon. Stay me, Mommy? Please? Finally she got distracted and I left. Not five minutes later we could hear her screaming. Sigh. Thankfully Jason went to check things out, but he didn’t come back. I thought he had taken her out of the room and they were walking hallways, as per usual. That’s what exhausted little old me would have done. Back to step one on this journey.

But they didn’t. My dear husband tackled things head on. With firm love.

He told me that he stayed in the room at a distance from her. And she played. She always looked up to make sure he was there, but she was okay.

Then came snack time and the kids go to an adjoined room for snack. Olivia’s anxiety rose and she would not go in. She wanted Daddy to go with her. He wouldn’t. He said he would stay right at the door, but she would have to go in on her own. She would take a few steps and then come back. Jason  kneeled down with her and prayed into her ear about letting go of fear and leaving it with Jesus. They prayed for bravery ~ doing something even though it’s hard or scary. She tried a few more times and came back and they prayed some more. Eventually she made it to her chair and enjoyed her snack (at least the part that wasn’t stolen by another toddler beside her ~ too funny).

We’re getting there.

One step.

One prayer.

One brave minute at a time.

And this man I married? The Daddy to these precious children that drive us to the moon and back? I might just love him to the moon and back and then some.
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