Before school began this week, I wondered how it’d go.We have two school aged kids now, a kindergartener and a first grader. Would our first week be like Finding Nemo, two overenthusiastic clown fish eager to begin. Or would it be more like stuffing a cat into a cat carrier for a trip to the vet – my kids legs stretched wide, trying not to get stuffed through the front door and loaded into our van? I didn’t have a middle ground scenario in my head.

—-

“First day of school! First day of school! Come on Dad, wake up! First day of school!” Said no one at my house.

Malik and Isabella weren’t upset about starting school either. They both went agreeably. No one had a melt down or was scared or sad. They held on a little tighter when we hugged good-bye on Monday, but the days have been going well and the kids have been coming home all smiles.

I too am not as sad as I thought I’d be. I miss them for sure. But, it’s kind of nice to have a house free of childhood competition or discussion about who is going to do what, when and how.

After the first day of absolute bliss, playing with mommy all by herself, Blu started asking questions. By Wednesday, she became focused.

“Where’s Mareek?” her little sweet face looked up at me.

“He’s at school Blu,” I answered simply.

“Oh! Okay. I want to pay wiff him,” she continues.

“You can play with him when he gets home from school!” I encourage.

“Where’s Isbella?” she cocks her head to the side, thinking.

“She’s at school too,” I watch her place a magna-tile carefully on top of the other tiles, creating a tower.

“Daddy at wook?” she puts down her magna-tile.

“Yes Blu. Daddy is at work.”

“Where’s Gaaamma?”

“She’s on vacation,” I notice her little lip start to pout.

“What about Unka Rahool?” Now there are tears.

“He’s at work honey,” I say softly realizing we might be feeling a little abandoned.

“And Dada too? Dada at wook too?” There’s a little stream gliding down her cheek.

“He’s at work too.” I overlooked Blu’s feelings in my back to school curiosity. I didn’t sit down and explain to her that they were leaving for the day or that they would be back. I assumed she’d love the extra attention.

“Weerse Mawrree,” she manages to squeak out.

“She’s at school too baby,” she just listed almost all the people who see her regularly on any given day.

“It juss Mama?” The tears start pouring out every which way, plopping on the floor like rain drops.

“Oh Blu! You can play with me! Mama can play with you!” I rub her back, but she’s not interested.

“No Mama.” Sob … sob … sob.

“We can play in the play room. It will be fun. Let’s go in the play room.”

“Ok Mama.” More sobbing. “I pay wiff you. But I so sad!” her head hangs limp and her eyes look down at the floor.

“I need Mareek. He mines.” She walks toward the playroom pathetically. “No one at my home.”

“Ownwee Mama heer. I juss need my Da Da!!!!”

She cried for another thirty minutes before I text Vijay asking if he could FaceTime. We’ve never done FaceTime with him before, but what the hell – might as well try.  He called within 5 minutes, she took one look at him on the screen and cried even harder. “DA DA! I WANT MY DA DA! I SOOOOO SAD!”

I hung up.

Luckily, it was Wednesday. Wednesdays are minimum days for Malik and Isabella.

Blu and I walked from the car to school, hand in hand, and waited in the quad for Isabella and Malik to come out of their classrooms. She skipped up to each of them as soon as the bell rang, giving hugs and kisses, smiling and squealing.

Walking back to the car, it wasn’t my hand she held in the cross walk. It was Malik and Isabella’s.

And just like that, all was right with the world.