Yesterday was the day I felt the worst about of all the days I’d be missing while in Iraq:  The first day of school.  Mostly that it was Anja’s first day of kindergarten, an irreplaceable day that I think is one of the most monumentous milestones in my childrens’ lives.  The day they take that giant step - no longer at home all day, but now independent and on the direct path that will take them to adulthood.  The day you give them a hug and a kiss and cry because in no time, they’ll be so consumed with schoolwork, friends, and extracurriculur activities and no more kisses, Mom, I don’t want my friends to see!

As I may have mentioned before, there were two big “firsts” that I knew I would be missing out on: Anja’s first tooth being lost and her first day of school.  I was able to be there for both with Isak and I just feel so bad that I couldn’t be there for her.  I was very fortunate to be able to see her first tooth come out on the webcam (which, by the way, has not worked since then) but I knew there would be nothing to help me be there for the first day of school.

Fortunately, with the ever-wonderful B, I knew there would be pictures so at least I got something.  But they were so bittersweet - getting to see them so excited at the front door but not being able to be there to hold their hands on their way to school.  Getting to see them in their classrooms but not being able to see what they were doing.  I’m grateful for what I have but I spent a long time thinking about whether or not this was all worth it.

Fortunately or unfortunately, I was walked in on while having a particularly bad moment after getting off the phone with the kids (”Mamma, I miss you so much!”  “Mamma, why aren’t you coming home? Why can’t you just get on an airplane and come home?”) and got some good counseling.  It was just the right kind of counseling that wasn’t negating my feelings but also reminded me to think about why I chose to come here in the first place.  I do feel like I am doing something very worthwhile here; I just hope that someday my children understand that.