Nachi's pointless rants and recollections

In a small section of the Bronx, there is a place called Little Italy.
In that place, there is a quaint Catholic School. In that school, there is a Kindergarten class led by a very strict teacher.
That teacher has her windows decorated with plants. One of those plants is a cactus plant and my son is terrified of it.

Not the actual culprit

How did this all came to be you say?
Well, I have a very sensitive child. He is also very visual.
He can't look at disturbing things without freaking out.
Chicken bones at the dinner table you say?
He'll freak out over them unless we throw them away or at least we cover them with a napkin.

Anyways, as we were walking to school today, he casually mentions the dreaded flower. He tells me he is very bothered by it and he can't just look away because he knows it's there.
I reassure him by telling him it will be alright, just ignore it.
When we got to school, the waterworks began. He started to get more and more anxious about the fact that he would have to sit next to that plant.
The conversation went something like this:

Luka: "Please, I'm too shy about that flower, can we go home?"
Me: "No bubba, you must go to school. Just turn around and ignore it."
Luka: "I can't! It looks at me, I know it!"
Me: "It doesn't have eyes baby, it can't look at you."
Luka: "I KNOW IT'S LOOKING AT ME!"

By then he was on full blown sobbing. The teacher by the door kept calling him over with a very gentle voice but I knew it wouldn't work.
I'm also not one of the parents that would leave a visibly upset child in school and just walk away. Sorry, can't do it, not happening.
The school closed it's door at 8:00 on the dot and Luka thought he was in the clear.
No such luck buddy!

We went over to the main entrance to get a tardy slip so he could make it to class.
Luka was still upset but I promised I would write a letter to his teacher right there and then to explain the situation.
I made the poor assistant scramble for some paper and pencil so I could write something before he was taken to class.
While I was writing I could see my son start to relax. The fact that I was actively doing something about it made him feel better.
By the time I was done, he was calm and he promised to try to relax in class.

I know this whole ordeal may seem silly to some.
I don't even know if his teacher will do anything about Luka's anxiety, I hope she does though.
What I do know is that my child has a very real fear of this plant and I couldn't just ignore it.
I just wonder if his anxiety and overall feeling of being uncomfortable is something I need to address or it's just new school jitters.

I'll keep you all updated.

Not many things can be done in ten seconds.
Look for a pen, answer a call, fish for your keys inside your purse, those things take less than ten seconds no matter how simple they are.
What you would never think could happen in ten seconds is losing your life.

Yesterday was Ronald's day off, we went out to run some errands with the baby and we were on our way home.
We were discussing what to eat and were crossing the street while chatting away. Not long after we made it to the other side of the street we heard a screech, we turned around just in time to see it happen.
The crash.

A lot of things go through your mind when you witness something like that.
"Is everyone alright?" "How did it happen?" "Should I call 911?"
But the most pressing question in my head was "What if we would have crossed the street ten seconds after we did?"

The damage to the car wasn't too bad. There was a dent left by the van that crashed into it. How fascinating it is to see exactly how metal gives in when hit by another vehicle. It's almost as if time slowed down, I can clearly remember it, BANG! CRUNCH!

We were considering going somewhere else before going home, we even stopped a little to discuss it. All I can think about, what if we had taken ten more seconds talking, would we have been hit by the van instead of the car? The car didn't suffer much, but metal is more resistant than meat and bones. Would we have survived? Would my son be alive and if so, would he now be an orphan?

I didn't think about these things straight away, they came gradually. At the moment of the crash I kept wishing everyone was alright and hoping that it was just a scare.
Thankfully there were no serious injuries except for the dent in the side of the small car.

We fought, Ronald and I.
I needed time to think and I took the baby with me for walk.
That's when the fear set it, that's when all those horrible images of us in the middle of that accident flooded my mind.
Ten seconds, that's all that could have separated us from life and death.

I cried for a while after the initial shock had gone away. I was terrified of what I had seen and I kept thinking about how short life is and how fucking stupid I am sometimes when I cross the street.

Ten seconds, think about it, that's all it takes.

In exactly two days I will be boarding a plane that will take me and Luka to Peru.
For him is going to be this great new adventure where he will have a chance to meet the other half of his family.
For me is this bitter-sweet journey where I will reunite with my loved ones after an almost five year absence but at the same time I will be away from my beloved "yellow prince."

There comes a time in a person's life when the one you love becomes the one you cannot live without. You bond to such an extent that being apart for an X amount of times starts to physically hurt. Just the thought of being away from him for a month is causing me so much stress. I've been ignoring the feeling for a few weeks now but tonight I couldn't resist the need to cry and I started bawling my eyes out.
A feeling of desperation has filled me and I have serious doubts about going to Peru.
I know that this trip is good for both Luka and I. To some extent is also good for Ronald and I and our relationship. Taking time apart is actually really good. Still, I feel like half of me is being ripped apart, like if me going away symbolizes separation forever. I know this is not the case, but my heart doesn't understand that. All it understands is that I will not be with Ronald and that is enough to send it into panic mode.

Anyway, I needed to get this off my chest and try to calm down. Eventually I will cry some more, I'll probably do it on the airplane and the first week in Peru. As the days go by I'll feel better until I get to the point where I will be sad all over again but this time of leaving my mother and the rest of my family.
*sigh*
The heart wants what the heart wants, what can you do?