“Hey kiddo, it’s time to go to Target,” I reminded my 8-year-old. My son curled up into the tiniest of balls against my request. I’d seen this plan of his to become invisible before and it was almost a good idea but ultimately unsuccessful. Foiled again by the fact that I know our couch isn’t ticklish, his toes gave him away. Through his giggles, he reminded me why he didn’t want to leave the house — “for forever.” After two years of sticking close to home, my kid doesn’t want to go out ever again.
After quarantine and a year of remote learning, plus this last year of basically only doing school-related stuff, my son’s happy place is now our living room. Oh, I get it. Over the past couple of years, all his major life events have gone down in here: virtual learning, holidays, and, of course, months’ worth of Encanto watching. I’m grateful my son felt content at home while the world was figuring out how to navigate a health crisis, but now that life outside our living room is safer, he wants none of it.
In the "before" times, we were a family that enjoyed a good errand-running adventure
We’d take time to goof off and explore while checking off items on our to-do lists. Trying on oversize hats or reading the punchlines to random birthday cards while grocery shopping was a way to enjoy family time — but these fun memories haven’t been enough to move my kiddo out the door. My son is having some genuinely big feels when it comes to leaving our home to run errands, grab a bite to eat, or anything in between.
“I don’t want to leave. It makes my belly hurt,” my son admitted softly
I sat next to him on the couch and listened. His hands were clammy as I held them, and when he was finished, I told him I understood why he’d want to stay where he felt the safest. I also tried to remind him it can feel OK being outside, adding playfully, “You can ride in the back of the shopping cart.” I hoped he’d remember how feelings of comfort can come up when you’re having fun, too. Tears filled his eyes, he crossed his arms, and said flatly, “I’m not going.”
Whenever we talked about leaving the house to grab lunch or a stack of Lunchables, my kid’s voice holds a fear I’ve come to expect. My mom heart wants to quickly unstack the block that’s keeping him from feeling more of his happy feels, but this nervousness seems as unmovable as those Lego towers we used to build. How do I support his need to feel safe while also showing him we can feel safe out of doors?
Not totally sure what to do, I did what I’ve always done when I feel out of my parenting league: I called my mom. “Be patient. It’ll get better,” she said.
I took her advice and took it slow
“Remember, kiddo, we’re going out to lunch tomorrow.”
Borrowing a trick that helped with transitions when my son was a toddler, I decided to give plenty of advance notice. If I could swing it, I’d do it the day before, but always gave three warnings before we needed to leave that same day. Giving him time to adjust eased him into a new way of thinking and allowed his brain and body to prepare.
The good news is, my kid has stopped trying to blend in with the couch cushions when we’re about to leave and hopefully taking the time to create our new normal will help him remember all the fun that can happen in the world outside.
