Yesterday, Mr. Pants had a straight up heart exploding panic attack. Yesterday, my heart went through the ringer. Yesterday, Ms. Plum showed her brother just how much she loved him. Oh man, yesterday was hard.
His heart was racing. He repeated the same phrase upwards of a thousand times. He held his wubby and rubbed his face. Nothing I did was helping. It was her. All her.
She sat with him. She cried with him. When she saw the opportunity, she leaned in to him. He let her. She kissed him. And then she kissed him again. Each kiss bringing a moment of calm. She kept kissing him. He wanted her to lie under his comforter, but she didn't understand. She ran away. His panic returned. So she did too. Her body and soft kisses, telling him, "It's ok, brother. I am here".
I have never seen a child experience such panic. I was at a loss. Such a loss. Everything I tried, failed. When it was over I spent some time crying it out in the bathroom. When I came out, they were together. Sitting quietly in their tent. Just being.
Then Grandma Pants stopped by for a little story time. Still dipping into a panic every few minutes, Grandma drew him out with a dolphin impression that made him laugh.
Becoming more and more comfortable, he took a moment to contain himself. The worst was over and we were heading towards normal. But he still didn't want his mama to hold him. And I'd be a big fat liar if I said that didn't sting. But he needed to choose how he came back to us. And he was choosing. He chose the green bucket.
The day trudged on. He was not himself and she knew it. It is normal in our house for Plum to want to be where Pants is at all times. What is not normal is that yesterday he wanted her with him all of that time. And so she was. By his side every moment of the day until she knew he was ok. No booster seat across the table for snack. She was going to sit right next to him. She wasn't going anywhere. Which was a good thing because I hadn't cleaned her booster tray after breakfast.
He's ok. He got through it. So did Plum. But it wasn't until he came to me and asked, "Ah shirt, Mama?", that I was alright. It's been months since he needed squish box a la Mama
. And this time, he wasn't the only one that needed it. So as he climbed on in, we watched some Thomas & Friends. Mama and Pants. I finally exhaled and my heart began beating at a normal pace. His did too. I stopped feeling as though I could cry at any moment. He did too. I finally released the pain I felt for him. And he let go of the pain too. We sat still together and just breathed in and out. It was completely over. Relief.
And Plum? Well, with the opportunity to tag out, she promptly went into Pants' room and played with all of his favorite toys.
Just like a baby sister should.