Well - it was a hard day. I took Tara to school and she seemed fine. After registering her and paying fees, we walked around and then walked to the playground area. I encouraged her to go on and she walked over and tentatively sat on a seesaw like toy (after the teacher lifted her on). She didn't seem bothered but not completely engaged. I watched for awhile - tried to say goodbye but I don't think she really saw me or understood. And then I left. I went to Mike's for my usual morning break and it was very odd to eat without her. It was quiet.
A couple other families eventually joined and I hung out there until I returned to the school at noon. The day generally goes until 2, but since it was her first day, the school recommended I come in earlier. I got to her room and the teacher encouraged her towards me but she just stood there stunned and wouldn't come to me, wouldn't acknowledge me, nothing. I couldn't tell if she was in shock, angry or what. I tried to keep a strong face but I was devastated inside. I knew she didn't understand that I had left and would come back and I couldn't figure out how to tell her except through the teachers. The teachers said she played nicely with the other children but didn't talk - which is not surprising as it takes awhile for her to talk to adults.
My heart was broken as I took her outside to put her shoes on. I picked her up and she seemed almost not to notice. I decided to take her back over to Mike's - since it's around the corner and she's familiar with it - and I could get her a drink and re-connect with her. On my way there, as I was crossing the street, I totally fell. Again, I ripped a hole in my pants and bloodied my knee. Needless to say, I walked into Mike's, walked over to the group of families I knew, and just started to cry. It was a hard moment.
Slowly, slowly Tara started to re-connect and after about 15 minutes she was back. We spent the afternoon together - getting her a fancy 'North Face' backpack and her own sunglasses (my guilt purchase) and then played back at the house. By the evening she was her same, goofy happy self - thank goodness!
The other families assured me that her re-action, and mine, were all normal. She didn't know I'd come back and probably imagined that I'd simply brought her to a new orphanage. Another mom told me it took a week for her son not to cry at school so I should give it a week and see how she does. Just keep reminding her that 'mommy comes back' all the time, even if she can't understand it. They said she will eventually understand it. I hope so.
Needless to say - I'm exhausted. It's 7:30 and I'm going to sleep!
5 comments:
I know that guilt all too well. Zoe was zombie-like the first day after daycare (at age 2) and it took a week for her to get used to it. Now she loves it.
That is such a normal reaction for any child going to school for the first time. She still checks in when I drop her off in the morning about who is going to pick her up, where she's suppose to go, etc. And feeling completely horrible is normal too, even more justifiable in your case since you are just at the beginning of your life together. I'm really glad there is a group of people there to help talk this out and support you. It doesn't get any easier when they happily skip away from you like little independents like they don't need you anymore but something else takes its place.
Awww, Judy, I wish I was there to give you a hug. It's not easy for any child to go to preschool at first (and after vacations or long weekends), and I can imagine that the "wall" she was showing you was her self-protection mechanism kicking in. Even if she understood the words "mommy comes back," kids that age don't comprehend time and aren't at all about delayed gratification. As Holly and Heather are saying, a totally normal reaction, and the guilt is wretched.
How do YOU like the school? Teachers seem nice? Kids seem well cared for and engaged in good activities? Perhaps after she gets a bit more adjusted to the routine you may reassure yourself by spending some time in the room with the kids. Maybe you can offer to volunteer (read the kids a story while the teachers are setting up snacks, bring an art project).
Hang in there. Preschool, and separation, is a tough one!
Awwww...! So nice to see these pics. Best wishes from Kabul.
mommy sadai auncha. Ahile timi mero bucha huncha ra Yo timro ama hu.
Literally, 'Mommy will always come. Now you are my baby/child and I am your mother'
if that helps... it's making me tear up a bit... hang in there! she seems wonderful and you are really being creative!!
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