She is now 5 and switched schools from the nightmare of a public school at the end of our street to the Catholic school across town. I'm a bit proud that she's going to french immersion and at the sister school to my high school, from back in the day... yes I was a teen once.
Today I walked her down to the bus stop and saw 8 kids waiting. Cool, so she won't get on alone. I was wrong. They get on an earlier bus. So we waited. Another bus went barreling by and I started to get a little worried, it was 5 minutes late. Sarah was, of course, excited to go back to school. she had said a few nights ago "Daddy, I don't like daycare, I don't want to go anymore" so I replied, "That's fine dear, summer is over you start school on Tuesday" to which she replied "well THAT'S the PLAN!" and she promptly stomped back up to her room. It was cute.
As we waited, she was asking all kinds of questions about her new school but what took her by suprise was when she learned I would not be going on the bus with her. Her entire demeaner changed. She became a little quiet. Finally the right bus came and I had to hold her back so she didn't run head long into the door as it was opening. I snapped a shot of her which you can see here. She seemed a little
nervous but happy to get on the bus. I can't describe how I felt, I was a little worried and axious, but proud to see her take a possibly scary situation which most kids would have freaked over (probly why the bus was almost late) and grab it by the horns. Nothing was gonna stop her from getting it done. That's her mother... I would have slept in if I was scared enough.Moments later, she was sitting on the opposite side of the bus, waving with a really scared look at her mother, who had raced down to the corner, not able to let her baby go without at least a goodbye wave. Berta was crying all the way back to the house. I should have got a picture of that.
This was the sad, scary moment parents go through with each and every one of their blessed little mess makers. Three parts fear, two parts scared and a dash of "at last, someone ELSE can deal with them during the day!"
And that fear is of course because we worry, that they won't know where to get OFF the bus. Normally this fear is alleviated by evening when the kids come home all triumphant. But no, not us. Our child DID get lost and was dropped off at the wrong house. I thought it was funny having heard about it when I got home from work, seeing with my own eyes that obviously she made it home ok. Berta on the other hand... Like any mother, just about lost it on the school.
I won't go into too many details. She was pissed. But she made it home and promptly destroyed our livingroom to show her appreciation.
Till next week,
Friar Greg
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