The big deal is kindergarten. Adam’s enthusiasm for kindergarten, even back when it was purely theoretical, was hot and cold. We weren’t really sure it was going to fly, but it had to — we didn’t have any other choice. When we dropped you off on September 1st there was a certain drama to it. And ever the drama queen, you didn’t disappoint.
Above is a photo of you on an early, pre-enslavement visit to the kindergarten. Your first several days there had their share of woe, and there were mornings when your mother and I arrived at work heartsore from the crying pleading attending your 0-dark-o’clock drop-off, but each day seemed to bring a new big step or glowing (okay, not dismal) report from your teacher: he agreed to put on his jammies for nap time! He ate the apple banica! And so after just two weeks of full-time kindergartening, we have to say that we are deeply proud of how far you’ve come. We know it’s asking a lot of any child to make the transition from home to kindergarten under the best of circumstances — it is essentially the first and most shocking of a truly endless series of object lessons in “Life Means Doing Stuff You Don’t Wanna” — but added to everything else, we’re asking you to learn a new language not only while making but in order to make this radical and mostly unwelcome change. Already your Bulgarian is pretty much up to the task, and we’re sure that as that ability grows, the daunting and snuffling and dawntime clinging will shrink. We’re really proud of you, Adam.
We’re proud of your brother, too. He’s at a critical hump-stage in his language acquisition, seeming to add new words to his vocabulary on an hourly basis, and as he’s building three different lexicons at the same time we keep waiting to see smoke emerging from his ears or comparable orifice. But he’s doing really well and is remarkably cheerful into the bargain. It’s nice to have Adam around to alert us just in case we miss something really earth-shattering: “Papa, Alek learned to say ‘trolley’!”, bellowed from the other room; “MAMA! Alek is saying ‘blagodarija‘!” when we’re out in the shops.
It seems that the time apart is making you better brothers to each other — ever so slightly. Adam’s spoiledness is diminishing, no doubt as a result of being one of two dozen kids in the kindergarten (and, sweet as she seems, I doubt that Ga. Lazarova puts up with a lot of crap from any of you little monsters). Alek spends long days in the Bulgarian-only company of Baba Sofia, and when Adam returns after a full day away there is slightly less chance of bloodshed than on, say, your average Saturday.
And you, Adam, have been very gracious about educating and accepting your brother into the liturgy of Thomas The Tank Engine And Friends. It was very nice of you to cede to him Percy and Mavis.
Never mind that at the moment he pronounces each of them like female body parts.
It’s a big adjustment for the whole family. Mama is back at work for the first time in over four years, and Papa might as well be, given the huge difference in expectations between this job and his last one, so time is a much more precious commodity for us as a family. But everyone is settling in to this extremely different, eminently better, version of our lives, and our life.
We’re really, really proud of both of you and the resilience with which you’ve met this year’s big upheavals. Don’t break each other’s heads.
