My Child's Love Affair with Sunscreen

It's 90 degrees today in Upstate New York, and I have been smacked in the face by yet another OCD tendency of my 6 year old. The tedious process went away this winter season and luckily seemed to escape my memory for the past 8 or so months.

But 90 degree weather and 2 days of straight sunshine has caused a sudden re-birth.

My kid has OCD with "Sunscreen Application".


Are any other people's children obsessed with this phenomenon? I mean, my step-sons could care less about sunscreen. We usually need to chase them around poolside with lotion in hand, slapping their backs as best possible hoping that even the smallest amount lands.

My 9 year old will whine, but knows that succumbing to the rub-down is a much better deal than facing a time-out. There is no worse torture than watching your siblings play outside or swim while you sit nailed to a chair for 10 minutes. No worse torture.

But then, there is my 6 year old.

Sunscreen application is a very serious process. It begins at certain points on each arm. The lotion must be administered slowly - in small dabbing motions which then turn into single finger strokes, up and down, up and down.

Leg coverage is massive. The child looks like one major grease ball and if asked to hold anything within an hour after completion, items slip through her fingertips even with the most determined grip hold.

And then we have the ears, neck, underarms, shoulder and facial coverage. Facial coverage is what I fear the most. As yesterday reminded us, facial coverage causes facial sunscreen drippage after any amount of sweat or perspiration, which in turn causes massive eyeball burnage.

Wouldn't most normal people learn a lesson after just one experience of massive eyeball burnage? I would surely think so, but that would then not allow for the entire process of facial sunscreen coverage and here I believe is where the OCD takes over in my child.

And as much as I feel sorry for the kid, I can not help but laugh inside. I love that greasy mass of child, even as I realize that the season for wet-washcloth application over eyes has just begun.

God help us all.

OCD and my 6 Year Old...

Well, if anyone on the planet actually reads this stuff, my girls are due back tomorrow mid-day after being with their father for 12 days straight. This is the longest they have ever been gone, and I am missing them to the point of now admitting I even miss Sydney's OCD. Is there anyone else that deals with things like this from their little ones? Yikes...with school starting soon and the strict routine schedule approaching, I am doomed to become a prisoner again to all her funny ways. Next week these ways will NOT be funny. They will actually be debilitating to me after some time... I will shed a couple of tears to my therapist, and she will help me look at specific things and explain that especially because they were away from me for so long, it is her anxiety at work, and we will once again begin our work, slowly, together, issue by issue.

But today, I miss my girls to the point of missing Syd's captivating OCD tendencies, and would do anything to have to deal with the following, which are truly my ultimate favorites:

1. Washing Syd's 2 pair of Hello Kitty socks every night to ensure she has both to pick from in the morning to ensure sock seams do not effect the feel of her sneakers around her toe area. We used to have more, but slowly they become worn out. Little does she know, I AM NOW MORE PREPARED THEN EVER thanks to my husbands keen eye on vacation last week. While in Geneva, NY we drove past a dumpy strip mall and thanks to Mark's 20/20 vision he belted out words I could only have dreamed of: "Look, a Payless Shoe store to the right!!! Do you think they might have Syd's socks there?" I remember the anxiety that built up in my stomach as we entered the glass entrance. I didn't see socks anywhere - our Payless store at home has kids socks vividly displayed near the register. I lost sight of my husband as he turned the first aisle, and then I heard it. "Sue, right here." Hello Kitty socks. The EXACT style of the only socks made on earth that my daughter will wear without a 20 minute tantrum. I couldn't pull them off the rack fast enough. 6 pairs. I am a hero. Mark is my hero.

2. Pouring milk into her cheerios each morning to the absolute perfect height of her bowl. Not too little. It MUST be enough to allow 4-6 cheerios to get flooded from her bowl and land appropriately on the table below. If I dare to walk away without this scenario occurring, I will be beckoned faster than a speeding bullet with the words: "Mom, MORE MILK!!"

3. Tucking her in bed each night. But you couldn't begin to understand how literal I am when I use the word "tucking". We have now determined a fair routine that allows for me to lay with both Samantha and Sydney for the same time each night before bed. The latest volume of Kidz Bop has allowed harmony and peace while creating the following ritual: each daughter has 2 songs to have mommy lay with them and rub their back. Sam goes right down. Syd however of course has to create one last OCD pattern to ensure I do not forget about her after she has drifted off to dreamland for the next 10 hours. Here's how it goes:

It begins with precise placement of her two pillows which is an exact art to her as you watch.

Next, she will stand up to neatly pull and arrange her pajamas just so - no wrinkles or wedgies allowed.

The move that follows is very skilled - in Olympic diving it would probably fall around a 3.4 in difficulty. It's kind of like a "jump squat thrust" we used to do in gym class in the late 70's, maybe early 80's. Do you remember this move? Start from standing position, squat down, hands straight out front (on perfectly arranged pillows of course), then feet straight out behind her in plank (or full push-up) position. All of this must occur however while Mommy holds her comforter up as high as possible, because if I'm not paying attention the comforter could actually brush that cute little butt of hers and would cause the need to start this entire process over from the start. I've gotten very good at my part.

Finally, the tuck of the comforter. The tuck on my part is extremely important and could cause angst on both parties. It must be tucked tight. And it must be done in three motions. Middle of the comforter, then down by her feet, with the tightest of the tucks needing to be done right near her shoulders and neck.

When the tuck has been approved by my littlest of angels, it is the following words that tell me I will have the rest of the evening to myself with my husband: "OK Mom, turn the lights off and shut the door."

"OK, Syd", as I walk towards her door. I shut the hallway light off, breathing some relief (other times holding in tears as I feel like a prisoner to this routine) ... "Sydney, the light is off, and I'm shutting the door."

"OK Mom. I love you."

"I love you too Sydney. Sweet Dreams."