A few weeks ago Everybody’s Boy looked longingly out the window in the early morning at the other elementary school children embarking the school bus and asserted, “I want to ride the bus.”
“Oh sweetie, someday you will ride the bus,” my words meant to pacify yet sounded sharply dismissive.
“I want to ride the bus now,” he insisted! ”Why do I not ride the bus like other kids?”
“Because Mommy likes to drive you to school. Because it’s our special Mom and Son time. Because the bus for your class is different from that one.”
Because it’s not that simple for you, I thought. Because those kids look innocent enough but their normalness is petrifying. Because you might not fit in and that could hurt you and if you are hurt it will decimate me and I just cannot take that risk. I cannot be decimated right now. Because you are my one and only baby and I cannot bear to let go. Because it is my job to protect you.
“Oh, well I would really like to ride the bus,” he whispered dejectedly.
“I know mi vida. I know. And you will, someday.”
On our drive to school he asked for a pencil and paper. I obliged and he began thoughtfully working on a project with the focus and concentration reserved for elaborate Mario Bros scenarios.
As we approached the school I began to go through my morning Mommy checklist. Finish up your breakfast, little one. Today is a Miss Cassandra day, she will pick you up, okay? Today is fruit and yogurt plate day, today you will buy your lunch. I put a note in your book.
Okay, sweetheart. You ready? Breathe. Believe. Begin.
Breathe: Deep breathe in and exhale.
Believe: ”Who can do it? Peter can!”
Begin: ”Here we go, first grader!”
As I hastened through the drop-off line he reached out to me and returned the pencil and the paper.
“Here it is, Mommy. It’s my bus ticket – for tomorrow.”
And just like that, in the best and worst way ever, I was decimated. Looking at this little piece of paper. This paper that exerted so much determination and hope.
This piece of paper that screamed out to me, “He’s ready. It’s you that aren’t. Let go!”
I did the only thing I could.
I wiped the tears from my eyes, blew him a kiss goodbye, and drove home and contacted the school.
Tomorrow he rides the bus; we’ve already got his ticket.
That was a great post!
Thank you!!
Sandra
Thanks Sandra!
Oh wow, that is such a beautiful, self-aware and relate-able post. Not only for me as a sister special needs mom, but probably for all parents not ready to let go of their babies. Really beautiful. I’m kind of speechless.
And tomorrow I shall lose it for realz.
Awe. . . I kinda love it. *crosses fingers for you. . . and him*
I hope it is what he expects it to be. . .
Thanks Jim of Target fame. I’m basking in your presence.
What a beautiful story. Sounds like he is indeed ready. Best of luck to both of you.
Thanks Neil. Great to find your blog.
Gorgeous post! I spent the better part of last year freaking out about my Bear riding the bus. I was fine with the special needs pre-K program, etc. But putting my 3 year old on a bus was a terrifying prospect and I couldn’t get past it – the voices in my head kept telling me I wasn’t supposed to have to trust my baby to a bus for a few more years. But he showed me – with his utter delight and enthusiasm for it – that he was ready. And of all the challenges school has presented, so far (aside from the hot summer temperature thing) the bus has been the best part.
I fought the leap and I’d still be fighting if he weren’t so determined. I’m glad it’s been good for you guys. I hope it will be the same for us. Now if only I wouldn’t have promised myself that if he ever road the bus I’d have more time to go running…
Simply beautiful. In a gut-wrenching, I-know-this-feeling-well kind of way. The first few times are the hardest. (http://maternalinstincts.wordpress.com/2012/02/01/sometimes-it-hurts-to-breathe/)
For what it’s worth, my son loves riding the bus, too!
Beautiful. I’m taking out my contacts in preparation for tomorrow.
I understand your fear all too well. My 2nd grader STILL doesn’t take the bus. What a beautiful post. Hoping all goes well on his new adventure.
I so get this. My daughter begged me to let her take the bus last year (kindergarten) but I just couldn’t let go. This post was so sweet! I hope it goes well!