Yago was happy this morning before I dropped him off at school:
(he also looked pretty cute!)
I’m sure that this afternoon I’ll be passing on taking the after-school, puffy-eyed sad Yago photo opp.
As I left the classroom this morning he started crying and then I watched from behind the cameras as he got so upset that he threw up his breakfast and had to be changed into his spare clothing. Poor Yago. Poor Yago’s Mom.
He will adjust and it will take time, I know. I am now kicking myself for giving him oatmeal instead of his usual cereal and milk first breakfast of the day. (I wanted him to be able to last until lunch.) But honestly, he would have thrown up anything I had given him he was so upset. Hopefully there won’t be a very long adjustment period. I told the teacher that I’d call around 11:30 but I think I may check on him now just to see if he’s calmed down…
…he’s doing much better now. It’s off-and-on, and currently off, thank goodness. Makes a mom feel better and less guilty, I guess.
I talked to my mom a little while ago and she reminded me of the following trait that I had as an infant and kid:
As soon as Louise (my long-time and much-loved babysitter) would walk into the room, I would throw up at the site of her. I’d be fine later, but my initial reaction would be to throw up. This probably started somewhere between 3 and 6 months old. I was better later and remember that I loved when she would come over!
Later, in grade school, I loved spending the night at my friends’ houses. I never told anyone this (and I suppose that until today I had blocked it from my memory), but even around 3rd and 4th grade I remember running to the bathroom and throwing up before getting dropped off at a friend’s house for the afternoon.
I hope that today was just a fluke and Yago hasn’t inherited my throw-up separation anxiety gene. I wonder if that one has been scientifically isolated yet…
I’d give anything to pick up a cheery, bright-eyed kid this afternoon.