Adventures in Babysitting

J has decided that he does not like leaving the house. I don't know why. It could be that ever since he got his Lightening McQueen and Mater cars for Christmas, he has to say goodbye to them whenver we leave. (He sets them down together somewhere, then very sternly says, 'You day dere' multiple times while wagging his finger at them.) He has certainly had some melt downs about them. That could be the straw that broke the camel's back. But ever since the new year, he's been emotional about leaving the house.

He won't go to nursery at church anymore, though he was happily going for a year before. Could that be the time change, the class change, the teacher change? We've tried everything but going to church at 9, he won't go anymore. Not even for Brother Norman's singing time. He does happily and quietly sit next to me, wherever I am. For the most part. Last week, during Sacrament meeting, I went out to find him and Ray to see if Ray wanted to listen to some of the meeting, and J was just standing by the glass doors, one hand on the door, staring out the window. I watched him for MINUTES, and he didn't move. When he finally saw me, he just said, "I go home."

The hardest thing for me is that he has decided that he doesn't like to go to the babysitter. I LOVE my babysitter, she is GREAT, and J has enjoyed being with her for months. Now, however, when I mention that we have to get ready to go in the mornings, he says, "I don't want to go!" The first morning he did this, he found a corner, pushed his body deep into the corner and cried. Lately, he hasn't cried too much at home, just when we get to the doorstep. I only work 3 days a week, and he only goes to the babysitter 2 of those days - but he doesn't want to go! Could it be because I was working longer hours on Thursdays? I just can't figure out the trigger for his behavior!

This morning, I was getting him dressed. I let him choose his shirt, and he chose his oversized tie die shirt that goes down to his knees. I took him into my room, because his pants are still kept in my bottom drawer. I opened his drawer and asked him to choose a pair of pants. He looked over his choices, closed the drawer, and said, "I stay home." The picture of him, SO SMALL - he weighed in at 26 pounds with his shoes on last week - the oversized shirt hanging down and his nobby knees and stick legs under the shirt, and his little bare feet, just deciding that he would stay home, and therefore didn't need pants... I hope I remember him as he was in that moment. So smart, yet so young!

I finally dug up his dirty spiderman pants that he was insisting on wearing - I'll do anything - and we had more drama over setting the table, but we finally got out the door. He ran right into the babysitter's house, didn't even look back, and no crying. A miracle! One that probably won't be repeated anytime soon... SIGH.