His Big, Wide World

Gusi has been a trooper. I haven't been so religious about keeping up with the blogging lately, but in my defense it has a lot to do with being a temporary single parent.

We flew "home" to the US two and a half weeks ago. Gusi actually did really well, though he didn't sleep as much as I had hoped on the plane. He's had some difficulties adjusting to the many changes that have been thrown at him, but he seems to be finding his rhythm now. It can't be easy to be two years old, switch continents, languages, friends, leave your father behind and start all over in a new place, even if it is an old place since you can't remember it. Sure he was born here and lived here for a year and a half before leaving for Senegal, but Dakar is his home, it's what he knows best. He asks about his friends, our gardener, our housekeeper and tells me how he's going to ride his tricycle down to the Plateau (the city centre of Dakar). This country, his birthplace, is the foreign one now.

So, now that's he's been on a number of flights and passed through security check points and adapted and re-adapted to life's many curve balls, he's now starting yet another new chapter: preschool. We had been preparing him for months about this: as soon as he got to the US, he'd go to school to play and learn. He was excited and for a while there, he'd even go to the potty since he wanted to be a big kid who went to school. (Unfortunately, the move back to the US has been too much and the potty training has been side lined for now.)

Today, this morning, just over an hour ago, Gusi started his first day of preschool. I thought it would all go smoothly since he'd been so excited about it for so long. When we went to visit the school he shooed me away and cried when we left--but that was just for half an hour while I talked to the director. Today, he was holding on to my dress, my legs, wanting to be held. When the teachers took the kids out onto the playground, he cautiously went along. He was excited to see the bicycles and jungle gym, but didn't want me out of his sight. I managed to slip away. I thought I'd talk to the assistant to finalize all his paperwork, but she wasn't in yet. I could wait 40 minutes in agonizing pain or leave and come back early to talk to her. I tried to leave, but I was frozen. I wanted to see how Gusi was doing. They told me I could watch on one of the security cameras, but I couldn't find him. I went back to the playground, caught the eye of one of the teachers. I shrugged my shoulders and gave a thumbs up and thumbs down to ask her from afar how things were going. She put out her hand and moved it left and right: so-so. I wanted to cry. I looked closer and Gusi was right at her pant leg. He carefully moved away and climbed up the jungle gym to see what was going on. One of the teachers came over and told me that he had started crying and when she went to pick him up he swatted at her. He got a time out for that but calmed down quickly. He was now adjusting to his new environment. The teacher told me that it was his first day and that eventually he would get used to it, not to worry. I thanked her and walked out.

As I climbed into the car the tears started welling in my eyes. Even though I've been thinking about the 1,001 things that I need to get done while Gusi's in school, I couldn't think of one that I could do at that very moment. I called my husband who's out in the middle of nowhere in Senegal on business. His voice calmed me down enough to start the car and drive back to our apartment.

The house is empty. The blinds in my room still open from where Gusi was playing there earlier. My son is growing up. Others will start to have an influence on his life, something I will have limited control over. I will soon have another baby which will consume all the spare time I have. How will Gusi react? How will his brother fare? How will I manage? Our life here isn't permanent and our real life awaits us in Dakar in three months' time. What then? Gusi's life is changing and so is mine. Can we successfully adapt and manage?

Time is passing and it is most evident by monumental changes like starting preschool. I'll be fine. I'll leave in a little while to pick up a special toy for him to celebrate his first day of school. That's about all I can think of right now. Oh, and maybe we'll spend the afternoon at the pool today. Some quality time will do us both good. In the meantime I'll try to write down a list of those 1,001 things so I'm not caught like a dear in headlights tomorrow morning. Tomorrow, when he goes back to preschool. Again.