Tuesday was supposed to be Raines Wilder’s first day at the Nemo-Piglet school. And it was supposed to be a frenetically fantastic day for me and my brain. That morning we got up, ate breakfast, had a tense discussion about brushing his hair, and skipped out the door to head to his class. I was hopeful and excited about getting this going for us. We had to skip the train ride that morning because he couldn’t seem to find anything sweet or remotely loving to say to me. And spiders have five legs, by the way, not eight. I’m so wrong all the time every second always. So hasta mañana, trencito. We were met at the school entrance by the director, who scrunched up her face and told me that, you see, there’s a bit of a chicken pox outbreak among the children. She didn’t actually say it was chicken pox at first, but referred to it as a skin virus. So I asked her if she could tell me exactly what it was, which involved her turning the computer on and trying to find what it is called. She had a nurse come downstairs to talk with me about it more extensively. And as this nurse is explaining to me that la varicela (chicken pox) wouldn’t be harmful to the boy, it could be very dangerous for my pregnancy. I really wonder what my facial expression was stuck on at this point. Also, in the middle of her explication I got one of my lovely sweats and had to hold onto the wall while she finished talking. They said it was totally up to me whether Raines stayed or not, and while he may very well get chicken pox at some point, I say no gracias to him having them here and now. Jesus please no. I had to lay down outside the school before walking us back to the house, where Norma pointed out that my face was empty looking and I should go lay down. This is where I remember our day starting to scrape around all the grime from the bottoms of our feet.

I let Raines Wilder watch a few episodes on his iPad while I slothed myself down onto the bed. After about an hour I said, okay kid, we gotta turn that thing off and go look for another school. 1.5 seconds later the boy lost his shit. I mean, torrentially so. There was screaming and growling and a few other forms of aggression. I was already at a heightened state of feeling stressed, and not having anywhere private to handle this rampaging creature whom I love pitched me into desperation. I couldn’t find a closet that I could fit into, so there I was, holding the glass balcony door closed while I sat on the other side of the wall crying. On the other side of the glass stood my son, who was banging on the door and demanding that I put the battery back in his iPad (I had turned it off). See, at home we’ve got protocol for this kind of mess. The longest his tirades usually last at home is 30 minutes or so. Apparently Mexico has given him super-tantrum skills. He went on crying and lamenting the loss of his iPad for about 2 hours. Yes, my nerves were bright red and yellow and green. And yeah, sometimes I lock myself in the bathroom at home until I can come out and love again. It’s safe. It’s what happens sometimes.

By the end of our day, I looked like this:

I’m not showing you the rest of my face because it was just too startling. Heh.

Things got better. Yesterday was many monies better and today is too. I don’t share any of this to remind myself of things I’d like to slush into a never-happened history. I write this down because it was our Tuesday. It happened, and I didn’t walk through it with Raines Wilder just as I would’ve hoped to. Not my kind of mothering, I’ll have to say. We totally miss Papa and our days are so different here, and my small one doesn’t yet grasp all the shifts and clefts that travel can design. Really, neither do I. I guess I just choose to be upset over things other than the iPad. The only thing I repeated all through the day to him was that I love him, and will not allow him to handle himself this way. I love him. I love him. I love him.

But school happened yesterday and is happening again today! Estancia Infantil Mac Paty seems to be a success! And we got him a bright green fútbol for our evenings at the park. So here I am, sitting at Starbucks (my options here are Starbucks and Italian Coffee Company, or one of the coffee stands in the mall We can talk about this weirdness later), channeling Raines Wilder’s tranquility at school with my blackberry pastry and latte. Check it.