A Butterfly Over a Rainbow

Geneva will soon be covered in all the golden hues of autumn and today is a deliciously crisp day to make the most of summer! In fact, a perfect day to take my two year old to the park. Instead I drive around the many parks on my way to the big white building with a rainbow painted on the front with the text ‘L’ Arc en Ciel’ (rainbow in the sky). As I get closer, I can literally feel my heart beating and hope that somehow it doesn’t vibrate from my hands to the handle of the stroller. I’m saying all kinds of nonsense to distract us both from the big deal. It is the beginning of our baba’s first game group. It is the beginning of the end of our constant cocoon since the birth of him.

As we enter the building, I see countless butterflies hanging sporadically from the ceiling, gratefully attracting our baba’s attention, that is for a few seconds until he begins to cry. He wants to be outdoors, running down grassy slopes and up and down stairs and lounging on a swing or slide. I don’t blame him, it’s a really fun day, and we’re with lots of easy going parents with lots of babies and toddlers around! But this is for his own good. I work up some courage and, groaning, lead him into our classroom, which just so happens to be at the end of the long hallway. It seems like it takes forever to get there. I realize I’m late and most of the little ones seem to have calmed down, if it wasn’t for a bit of weakness or crying. I can’t help but feel the eyes of all the parents and caregivers on me as my loved one cries and cries, shows the door, says ‘out’ and ‘park’! It’s like he knows this is where I’ll leave him. I struggle to keep it within the four walls of our room. It’s divided into little compartments with play areas, a lounge, a toy parking lot with lots of cars and highways, a craft corner, and a toy kitchen with all sorts of goodies that I know Baba would love, if he could just drop by. all the tears of him!

Unfortunately we survived two hours together!

A standard in this period of ‘adaptation’. My back hurts when I try to hold it. He has been crying most of the time, except for a few brief moments when a toy iron and a stroller caught his eye. I’m exhausted because I’m sure he! I long to get out and get some air and let him do what his weeping heart wants. His usual smiles return when I talk about the park and say goodbye to everyone. His mood changes instantly! He is very excited, saying goodbye to everyone, loving the new word he just heard and repeating it over and over again to everyone: ‘à demain’ (see you tomorrow)! Really? Does it really make sense? I am emotionally and physically exhausted. Tomorrow I can wait!

But yes, tomorrow comes.

And I am full of fear. Fortunately, my ever so ready to compete but considerate man ready to help us! I’m happy to have the helping hand to literally carry some weight and not think so much about who has the most effect on our son. As we enter the grounds, I expect the howling to start, but apart from a little struggle to get drool out of the pram, we’re inside the room without a scream! Miracle! And a miracle of wonders, she runs over to the iron and starts ironing while my husband gives me a kind of triumphant ‘it’s all me’ smile! Well, my thoughts are made up. The first day, Baba thought that she was going to leave him. The second day she received the message that I am not leaving. Which is a place for the two of us to play and hang out together. Wrong message but precisely at this stage, as the caregiver explains, first you have to remove the fear so that you can have fun and get to know the place and the people. Then in a few days as I gain the trust of him to do 10 minute ‘breakaway’ snippets to orchestrate my constant return to him.

The next few days are good.

We like to play school together. In fact, Baba walks to the classroom himself and starts his activities, all within a radius of me that I have to widen! What a complicated science! At the end of 2 hours, the supreme byes of him comes running with his ‘â demain’s and ‘au revoir’s! He affectionately calls his caregivers so-and-so and knows several of the children by his name. He is a confidant. Poor soul, he thinks this is it!

Then the day comes when one of these girls comes up to me and tells me it’s time to get a “divorce.” I am so unprepared. I have tv read about what does a white butterfly mean

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