La Escuela

Maybe it's all my fault.  I remember how hard it was when I dropped Shana off at pre-school and she cried. It was so sad. Maybe I was too nurture-nurture-y, too many mommy wuvs yous, too many she's an only child, no back-ups, I can't screw this one up moments. I tried to explain back then how everything would be alright, she would make friends, she would like her teachers, she would love recess and lunch and nap time and coloring. But she kept crying. For days. Sometimes I would go out to the car and cry, too. I wondered if I should home school her. Quit my job. Drop out of college. Dedicate my entire life to her. But one day she went in and she didn't cry. Just waved at me and ran in, smiling.

Talk about sad.

Today, a decade and a half later, it happened again. Since getting to Spain she's been calling (well, Skyping, actually - maybe all of this technology makes it harder on us rather than easier) and she's been sad. Sad, lonely, homesick, sleep-deprived, jet-lagged, a bit uncomfortable living in a stranger's home. I explained that this will all pass. Her Spanish family seems great. Her fellow students will arrive shortly. She will eventually get a good night's rest. She told me that she understood all that, but it was still hard. I tried to help and it broke my heart when I saw some tears. But today she ran off to school with her friends all day, came back to her house, had some zucchini soup, took a nap and was headed back out tonight, happy as can be. Gotta go, Mom. Adios!

Adios la nina, te quiero.