Don't Make Me Cry.

Yesterday during English class the kids and I talked about how they wanted to come to my house. For the past month J has been talking about that possibility off and on and keeps asking me if he could. Of course, I say. And I mean it. We talked about my family, what we would do. How they would come when I left. Then I told them they had school so they woul come when there was a break from school. They would save up money now for the trip. We talked about it for some time. I told them that they could come when they were older to come and learn English. And maybe even they could be my cuidadora for my kids when I’m older. I got all excited thinking that maybe it could actually happen. Could it? Am I that naive to imagine that in 10/15 years I might be able to see these kids again when they choose to come live with me. Agh, I hope not. I started to get sad. And I told them that. I said I’m sad. They asked why, and I said that I didn’t want to leave them. Then they lightheartedly said, we’ll we’re coming to your house. Oh niños. I hope you do. I thought for a moment I might cry. They might drive me nuts, and we might fight, but every now and then me and these 5 & 7 year old children have real connections. Really real.