Separation Anxiety

On her third week (though technically fourth day) of pre-schooling, Indie suddenly developed an aversion to school.

"My school is am baho (Indie's broken Tagalog for stinky)!"

"My classroom is not nice!"

"The floor is dirty!"

"I have too many classmates!"

"I don't like the boys!"

Thus began the horrors of two parents who were all at once faced with a rebellious daughter who was proving to be a little too strong-willed and opinionated for her age. Was our baby a rebel without a cause, I wondered. Or maybe we sent her to the wrong school. Maybe a public school was not entirely a good idea after all. Maybe she would feel more comfortable with kids who spoke English like her. Maybe she'd be better off in an all-girl school.

It would have been a never-ending list of maybes were it not for the fact that it finally occurred to me by Wednesday that Indie would always refuse to enter her classroom if I did not come and stay with her inside. She would cry and sometimes even throw up, according to her teacher, when I was not around anymore.

And then it hit me. Separation anxiety, that was what this was all about.

Poor darling. How could she, a girl of four, not experience it when I, a grown-up of almost thirty-nine, was unable to escape it as well!

The first time I left Indie at school (during the second week) was just as bad for me. I was so nervous I did not leave without first handing her teacher my calling card. You know, in case of emergency. At home, I kept checking my cellphone, fearful of, yes, an emergency call. I was afraid she might hurt herself or something. I was even scared she might choke on her grapes!

When I finally got to be with her after three hours, I hugged her like we were away from each other for days. Of course, she must have felt the same way. I should have known better....