Her Mooshka

A big part of therapy for children with any special needs is coping skills.  Thankfully, our girl has had great coping skills for her anxiety.  However, with a turn of a hat (or a forgotten doll in this case) things can go south quickly.

She has always had anxiety with crowds in confined spaces.  For example, it took her two years to feel comfortable enough to enter the main church.  She'd happily sit in the lobby (our Catholic Church in M'ville did not have a cry room) and pay attention or if I held her the entire time she go in willingly.  But seeing that she has younger brothers, we were not always able to hold her all the time. Sometimes I had the baby and dad had the toddler or vice versa.

Around the age of six (she's almost 8), she finally felt comfortable walking in, sitting down, and staying quiet for the entire length of the mass.  She only requested one thing - a doll or teddy bear.  Seems simple enough, right?  Well, dolls and teddy bears can be forgotten.  Like this year on Good Friday.

We pulled into our parking space at church around 2:40pm for the 3pm service.  She realized she had forgotten her Mooshka doll, Princess Paula.  She begged to go back home and get her but we had no time.  I knew it would be a disaster.  Just the night before, she sat for 1.5 hours during the Holy Thursday Mass.  Well behaved and attentive the whole time with Princess Paula by her side.

My husband had to work but my parents sat with the older boys while I took the little boys in the cry room (our new church has a cry room and my 18 month old is currently in a phase of throwing hymnals).  Louise came with me and I was hoping it would help.  She refused to sit next to me.  A meltdown was on the horizon.  Thankfully two of the other families in the cry room we know through our homeschool group.  I was a tad bit less embarrassed.  She alternated between curling up in the fetal position and yelling at me about going home or at the baby beside her to leave her alone (all he was doing was looking at her).  We avoided a full blown meltdown but I knew it wasn't over yet.

She wanted to kiss the wounds of Jesus during the veneration.  She came with me and stood in line.  But before I knew it, she ran out of the main church.  I knew where she had gone - back to her seat to cry.  She wanted to participate.  She wanted to be included.  She wanted to get past her anxiety.  But she couldn't.  We try to never push, just to encourage.  But sometimes it is too much.

We got home and the tears and shaking and screaming and hitting began.  All because Princess Paula was left behind. Things are usually better within an hour or so, but my mommy guilt is still lingering.  Should I have just left?  But what about my other children?  Why, oh why, didn't I remember her doll?

It had almost been an entire year since her last church meltdown.  Last time we forgot her pink teddy bear.