Kael! Kael! KAEL!!!

After four days of driving me bonkers at home, coughing and sneezing all over me and Malia, leaving trails of snot up and down his sleeves, I finally let Kael go to school on Friday.

And as usual, we were late. Added to our self-inflicted lateness was the stupid traffic on highway 91, making us even later. I was very surprised we found parking but then again, since we were so late, people were already leaving (having dropped off their children on time) so parking wasn't so bad after all. (Something to think about...)

We missed music time which in all reality, is really more for Malia's enjoyment than it is for Kael's. Kael is more interested in goofing around with his buddies than singing, whereas Malia bounces around doing her funny Running Man dance. I hated that we were so late because I knew that it would have taken a little bit of time to get Kael comfortable again in his class, and music time would have been a great activity to ease him back into the rhythm of school. As it was, we rushed to his class... where I saw a kid run out and refuse to go back in. Surprisingly, it was a kid from Kael's class - and for some reason he was really upset about having to go to class. As his grandparents and Mrs. Morin tried to convince him that school is good in the hallway, Kael and I snuck into class. I was secretly relieved that this disruption took all eyes away from Kael.

But I had forgotten how time to a preschooler is so elastic. "Later" is sheer agony and "tomorrow" is forever so I can't imagine what four whole days feels like to them. I heard one voice call out "Kael!" Then I see head pop up: "Kael!" And then more heads pop up: "Kael! You're back!" "Kael, are you OK?" "Kael, I missed you!" "Kael, were you sick?" Pretty soon my poor kid was swarmed with his friends trying to hug him, touching him to get his attention and they were all calling out "Kael! Kael! Kael!" trying to get a word in. It was as if he had gone on sabbatical and it had been four months not four days since he last saw them.

And all their affectionate attention was so overwhelming to my cautious, introverted son. He hid his face in my leg and wouldn't talk to anyone. He was thoroughly overwhelmed. It was agonizing yet sweet. (Agonizingly sweet?) I knew his friends were so happy to see him (and they were really letting him know that), but he couldn't respond because it was too much for him to handle.

It makes me happy to know that even though he is shy and quiet, Kael's managed to make a lot of friends in his class.