We made a pilgrimage to Oklahoma recently to visit my mother's relatives. The trip entailed meeting a slough of new people and three dogs. This scared the bejeezus out of Squib. He began freaking out every time the door was opened and every time a dog approached him. Naptime and bedtime became these torturous events during which he would scream "I need you, I need you, I need you" incessantly at the top of his lungs.
Before our trip, he always trooped off to bed as though happy to go there. Not a worry. Not a single qualm. I was hoping that upon our return to our nice, safe, dogless house he would go back to his normal routine, but alas...it is not to be...
I did not want to go to Oklahoma. I knew what his reaction would be because he said he did not want to go. It takes time for him to warm up to people. I had no idea it would be this bad, but I knew it wouldn't be pretty, but there was the issue of trying to please my mother by taking her second grandchild and presenting him to his great-grandmother (who already doesn't remember him :). And NOW, he's a candidate for anti-psychotics. Yes, drugs.
I am officially through with any and all delusional efforts to please my mother. This one was disastrous.
So here we are. He has been in the bed for two hours. For an hour he was silent, then he remembered that he "needed me." The ENTIRE next hour was filled with his repeated statement "I need you, mama. I need you, mama. I need you, mama. I need you, mama. I need you, mama. I need you, mama. I need you, mama. I need you, mama. I need you, mama. I need you, mama..."
Yes, I have attempted to console him. I've gone through his bedtime ritual at least twice in full and in part several more times. I've tried rational discussions and irrational approaches. In the end, all I can say is "I know you need me. I need you, too. It is time to go to sleep. I love you." AND WALK AWAY. Staying with him actually makes it WORSE.
I desperately want my Squib back. My calm little happy bedbug that loves being under the covers and doesn't sweat it. Something bent and maybe broke during our time away. If it's permanent, I shall be chapped. VERY CHAPPED. Not at Squib.
Nevertheless, it is safe to say that we are not going back. At least we are not going back until he starts to love dogs or until the idea to go back is his, and not mine. There's just something the matter with "family" vacations that end up warping your kid so badly that they can't sleep. 'nough said.
What's really squirrelly is that he's around dogs ALL THE TIME!!!!!!!! Just not these dogs.
And if baby ain't sleepin'....nobody's sleepin'.