Baby and I are pretty close. As a stay at home mom, this is probably a good thing considering how much time we spend together. Nevertheless, I still try to provide him with some non-mom time each week (and give myself some quality me-time in the process). He has lots of Daddy dates and hangs out with this grandparents whenever schedules allow.

When I leave the room (or the house), there’s usually little to no protest. I’m rarely gone long, as Baby refused taking a bottle, instead preferring his milk straight from the source. While my heart melts every time I come home and Baby is excited to see me, I never thought that he had much separation anxiety. Yet one morning when he was around eight months old, Baby was accused of exactly that.

With two sets of friends in town for different family reasons, all of our local and out of town friends planned to get together for brunch. The day arrived, and Baby woke up an hour early than normal that day (eager to meet his new friends, I’m sure). I tried to snooze him, but my efforts failed and we were soon playing. I tried to keep him awake until his normal nap time, but he protested fiercely and went down about 20 minutes early (and very very sleepy).

Forty minutes later he was up, and no amount of rocking, cuddling, or nursing was getting him back to sleep. Typically a 90 minute napper, I already knew this day would be an adventure. We took Sirius for a walk, nursed, then headed out to brunch. We’d be stretching his awake time again, but with so much excitement around him I hoped he would stay alert and happy.

As soon as we got to the restaurant, he was stolen from me and gradually passed down the table from friend to friend down. When he reached the end, Baby hung out on the lap of a friend’s lap he’d never met before. He promptly grabbed the friend’s sunglasses and shoved them into his mouth, happy as a clam. Amused, I relished in the adult conversation at the other end of the table. When Baby tired of the sunglasses, I passed down Sophie (his favorite chew toy).

After a while, Baby started to fuss. As he was slowly passed back to me, each friend tried to sooth him. They all failed. To be fair, it wasn’t their fault. Baby wanted milk, so their efforts were doomed from the get go. Comforted just by being back with me, he snuggled in my lap. One familiar friend tried to take him, and he immediately started to cry. I took him back, and headed out to the car to feed him. I am a huge supporter of breastfeeding in public, but our table was cramped and heading outside was an easier and more comfortable option for me in that moment.

Back inside, I sat down at the other end of the table. Heeding the disclaimer that he might spit up, the first couple of friends who reached for him decided to hold off. Another didn’t care and tried to take him a minute later. Baby started to cry, so she passed him back. As soon as he was in my arms he was quiet.

Soon spit up worries subsided, and one by one each friend tried to take him. Each time Baby would start to fuss and cry, reaching for me to take him back. A discussion about separation anxiety ensued. The 20 minutes Baby spent in their laps earlier was forgotten.

See, this is what happens when he’s with you all the time.

Baby has separation anxiety bad.

You need to just leave him with me so that he can get used to not being with you.

He needs to get over this.

And my personal favorite:

What do you do when a dog has separation anxiety?
Crate him.
What do you when a baby has separation anxiety?
Hug him.
Yeah, that seems to be working.

It did. Baby stopped crying.

OK. I believe that in the long run, it is important for Baby to be comfortable away from me. However, out of the group at brunch, only one of the people at the table saw him regularly (though he fussed with her at brunch, too). The bigger issue was that he was tired and we were pushing his nap for the second time in a row. I understood his fussiness, but my friends were not open to my explanations. It’s separation anxiety they said, and he had it bad.

Side Note: I learned later at our first Parents as Teachers Home Visit that what Baby was experiencing wasn’t technically separation anxiety, but rather stranger danger. It’s basically the same thing, but separation anxiety would have been if Baby got upset because he couldn’t see me. Stranger danger is when Baby is upset being with someone he doesn’t know well, even though I’m right there.

Once we were home, Baby immediately passed out and slept for almost two and a half hours. When he woke up all was right in the world. Yet my friends’ labeling of separation anxiety stayed with me. First, because I thought they were (partially) wrong. Second, because even if they were right, it wouldn’t change how I handled things.

I am Baby’s home base. His safe place. When he’s hungry or tired, I’m the one that takes care of him. Thinking about this from Baby’s perspective, I fully support his desire to be in my arms when that’s what he feels he needs. Similarly, if my husband had been there, Baby would probably have been just as happy with him (with the obvious exception of when he was hungry).

Even if it was stranger danger, I did not see it as a negative thing or something that I needed to fix. At eight months old, he was in the middle of mastering object permanence. Separation anxiety and stranger danger were natural results of this new brain development. It was something Baby would either grow out of or that we would need to work on if it’s still a problem in the future when it’s no longer developmentally appropriate.

If I were working out of the house, we may need to address it sooner rather than later. However, I would do so by providing Baby with a consistent caregiver who he would be able to get to know and bond with from seeing them every time I worked. Even in this scenario, I would still expect Baby to cry if he was hungry or tired and strangers were trying to cuddle him.

So quit labeling my baby. Or keep doing it. It doesn’t really matter. Because I (and Dad and Grandma and Grandpa) are the ones that care for him day in and out. We’re going to keep cuddling him because he’s a BABY and it’s what he needs.

Have your friends or family members ever thought they know your baby better than you do? What is the worst parenting advice you’ve ever received?