Little Secrets, Little Bucky

Sensory Overload

A few books in, Bucky started to get uncomfortable. He wasn't sure why, but he felt like he was on fire. All of a sudden the lights were too bright, Mama's voice was too loud, and too many things were touching him. He was getting overwhelmed. He covered his ears with his hands and squeezed his eyes shut trying to block out his senses. He felt Mama move him out of her lap and let out a little cry, she was probably mad at him. After all he was overreacting, nothing should be wrong right now.

But everything was wrong. He was tired and much too little to know how to handle this. He wanted Mama, but at the same time the idea of anybody holding him or squeezing him the way he usually craved made him feel like he was going to throw up. He had no idea how to fix this. Mama was supposed to make things better, but he wasn't sure if even she could help him.

After about a minute of trying his absolute best to calm himself down to no avail, he felt himself get picked up and laid down on a soft surface. His hands were gently pried away from his ears. "It's ok, Bucks," he heard his mama whispering, trying not to overwhelm him anymore than he already was, "You can open your eyes." He didn't want to see the bright lights again, but Mama wouldn't hurt him on purpose. His chest was heaving with the panicked breaths he was taking but he tentatively opened his eyes. Relief flooded through his body when he saw what Mama had done for him.

His mama had laid him down on a blanket on top of the playmat that she had bought earlier at the store. It was soft, cushioning the hard floor and he could spread out without anything else touching him. All the lights were off, with the exception of the little star projector that was in his toybox the first time he had opened it. Mama had given him exactly what he needed: a safe, quiet place to calm down. He looked up at her, tears shining in his eyes and she gave him a gentle smile. She sat down at the edge of the playmat, not too close, but close enough that she was there if he needed her.

His breathing began to slow back down to normal levels as he laid there, gazing up at the constellations on the ceiling. He started chewing on his bottom lip, trying to soothe himself and felt Mama press one of his new pacifiers to his mouth. He gladly took it, finally feeling his mind start calming down. He wasn't sure how long he laid there staring at the steadily rotating stars and letting himself settle, but he felt so small that it didn't really matter.

He didn't feel so upset anymore, but he was confused. He didn't understand what had just happened. Now that his skin didn't feel like it was burning he wanted Mama to hold him again. He wanted her to tell him what was going on. Mama would know, Mama would help him. He sat up and reached for her, whining from behind his pacifier and she sat down on the playmat, pulling him into her lap so that he was straddling her, face pressed into her neck. She stayed silent, not wanting to push him until he was ready.

"Mama, wha' happened?" He whispered, taking out his pacifier, after a few minutes of her rocking him back and forth.

"It's called sensory overload, baby," She had figured out what was happening right about when he had started covering his ears. The combination of his heightened senses and the fact that he was overdue for a nap in an incredibly young headspace must have sent him over the edge. "Your brain got overwhelmed and you needed some quiet time to regulate yourself, it's alright."

"M sorry," he felt awful that his mama had to deal with this, with him. "Won't do it again, Mama, promise." If he promised not to let it happen again she'd stay right? "Jus' don't go."

The arms wrapped around him tightened as he tried to apologize. "Oh, sweetheart, you have nothing to be sorry for," she told him, "Mama's not going to leave you all alone, I promise."

"M'posed to be a good boy," Bucky tried to explain while his mama held him tight.

"You're a very good boy, my good baby," she soothed, running a hand up and down his back. "It's ok that you need help from your Mama sometimes, that's what I'm here for. You're just a baby, you're too little to handle these big feelings all alone."

He took a deep breath in and let it go, letting himself relax entirely against his mama. He slipped his paci back in his mouth, tired of talking, and let himself focus on the feeling of Mama rubbing his back and rocking him back and forth. Eventually his eyes started drifting closed and he felt his mama stand up with him still in her arms. He didn't want to let go yet, and held on tighter as a sleepy little whimper escaped him.

"Shhhh, it's alright, baby boy," she whispered, "I'm just moving to the couch, I'll keep holding you until you wake up." She'd done some research after he'd fallen asleep the night before and found that babies napped better when they were held. It was called 'contact napping'. She figured it was worth a shot, especially with how attached to her Bucky was.

He easily drifted off to sleep in her lap, and she did some shopping on her StarkPad while he slept. This was so much better than having him nap in the bedroom. He was sleeping peacefully and she liked being able to know that he wasn't afraid or awake and all alone in the dark. Not to mention the fact that contact napping meant that she could cuddle her baby while he slept to her heart's content.

The look on his face when he woke up and realized she was still holding him solidified her decision even further. His eyes lit up and she could see a little smile from behind his paci. "Did you have a nice nap, bubba?" She asked, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "You slept for a whole hour and a half." He happily nodded his head against her shoulder and shifted a little. "I think you need a change, baby," she said, standing up with him on her hip.

Bucky's face burned red. He hadn't even had a nightmare, how had he managed to wet in his sleep? Was he really that little? He buried his face in his mama's shoulder in embarrassment, whining when she laid him down on the bed. She handed him his blankie and he immediately clung onto it, grateful for something to hide his face with. He trusted that Mama wouldn't hurt him, but that didn't change how frightening this situation was. It was vulnerable and he was all too familiar with how badly this could go.

But she was fast and gentle, not being too rough or making a big deal out of it, just cleaning him up like she really had a baby and it was just a part of her daily routine. She was speaking softly to him, not about what she was doing but about their plans for the rest of the day. According to Mama he was going to try something called 'tummy time', apparently it was something that babies did to help with their development. Mama said that he might have fun doing it, even though he was all done growing. He was even going to get another bottle after he had his snack. Once the clean pull-up was in place, he felt a lot better. His overalls were put back on, and Mama tugged him up to sit so that she could button his straps. He was still hiding his face in his blankie and she crouched down so that she was at eye level with him.

"Can you come out, baby?" She coaxed him gently into looking at her, "We're all done now, I promise." He slowly lowered his blankie, shyly looking at her through his eyelashes as he sucked on his pacifier. "There's my good boy," she cooed, "you did such a good job for me, Bucks." He made a flustered little sound in his throat and blushed, hugging his blankie close. Mama always said the nicest things. "Now do you want to walk to the living room or do you want me to carry you?" She asked as she stood up.

Did she really even have to ask him that? He reached up for her enthusiastically and she smiled at him as she gathered him up, blankie and all, to hold him close. She took him to the living room, laying him down on his stomach on top of his playmat and handed him one of the toys they had bought at the store, a stuffed bee with a rattle inside and wings that crinkled when he touched them. He shook the bee excitedly, giggling around his pacifier at the sounds the rattle made.