Playing alone…

Today I had a video conference for work in the middle of the day, ideally when little EC would be napping. But she hasn’t been on the right schedule for that in awhile, so I don’t know what I was thinking when I agreed to that particular time (1:30–2:30). So at first I kept her in her high chair eating lunch, and I introduced her to my colleagues and away we went.

She, however, has been teething recently and her appetite wasn’t great today. She also somewhat resented not being in the line of sight of the computer’s camera (thanks to all the chats with Grandma and Grandpa, when she’s always the center of attention…). Combined, this meant that she very quickly insisted on being done and getting down to play. So I put her down.

But being put down to play alone is never what she wants to do. She always has me to play with. When she realized I wasn’t coming with her, she got very upset, very quickly. I told her to go play by herself for a little bit, I gave her some Play-Doh and tools on the kitchen floor, but she was having none of it if my attention wasn’t part of the package.

Fortunately, at this point I was listening to a presentation and could have my microphone muted. So when she stood by my chair for a good 10 minutes crying, I could gently tell her to go play but otherwise ignore her, on the theory that she’d eventually get tired of crying and entertain herself. But soon I knew I’d have to be talking again, and I picked her up and put her in her toy area, and told her to go play by herself for a little while.

She cried some more, but it was in the distance and I could function while it went on. Eventually she got quiet, and very quiet at that. When I once again was in listening mode, I got up to go peek at her, and saw her sitting on the floor, a teddy bear in one arm and a stuffed dog in the other, sniffling and looking toward where I would show up, if I were coming for her. She saw me and I waved at her, but then went right back to my conference. She called me a couple of times, then went silent again.

Only once more did she cry, when she decided to come back to the kitchen and get me, but I turned her away and she went back to her toys. When my conference was finally over, I found her lying on the floor, her bear by her side and her dog in her arms, clutching an un-wrapped crayon that she found who knows where. Then I explained to her how she did a good job being by herself for a little while, and that sometimes she needs to do that, and gave her some good attention. By the time she insisted that we go for a walk and “swing, high” (her words) on the playground, she was feeling better again.

Only now, late at night as I’m about to go to bed and the house is quiet, do I realize that I’m a bit haunted by that image of her sitting alone on the floor, stuffed toys clutched tight for comfort, tears in her eyes, watching and waiting for me to come. I know it was really no big deal, what happened today…but as I think on that image, I pray that nothing ever happens, that I’ll always be able to come get her when she needs me; always be able to wipe the tears from her eyes; always be able to comfort her myself in place of mere empty things.