May the busing begin

The day after Elias practiced climbing up the monster bus stairs, when I arrived at school to pick him up, I walked through the door and saw him chasing a line of small children, his little legs barely touching the floor as he muscled his walker forward with his arms, saying: Bus... bus... bus...

I stood and watched as he moved towards me. Bus...bus...bus.

When he reached me, he looked right at me, registered mama, and rolled right past: Bus...bus...bus.

How could I not sign him up to ride?

So this week, instead of riding in mommy's green car to preschool, Elias climbed those monster stairs, with help, and sat in a seat, buckled for safety, all by himself.

I stood outside the long bus--yes, a long bus though in essence, in function, in service,  it is a short one--in front of our blue house, and looked through the windows towards Elias's seat. Small children waved at me from their seats. I waved back.

When my eyes landed on Elias's window, I could only see the tip of his striped hat.

As the bus pulled away, I hopped in my car to drive to school. I needed to see his face when he unloaded. The sub bus driver--yes, on his very first day we were not greeted by the bus driver with the wide warm smile but instead an unfamiliar face peered down at us from behind the wheel-- got lost between our house and the two miles to Turnagain Elementary. So what should be no more than a ten minute drive (it takes me three) turned into a half hour road trip for Elias.

I stood outside the school with Elias's teacher, chatting, and waiting, and wondering what was passing through my little guy's mind. When the bus finally arrived and Elias emerged, he appeared dazed, wide-eyed, but content.

This morning, day two of his busing adventure, he refused to eat his French toast, and only wanted to play with his toy bus as we waited for the bigga bigga bus to come to our door.

As excited as he is to ride the bus a piece of me feels like a bad mother for sending a twenty-five pound boy, who is not yet three feet, off to school on his own. A distant voice judges me for trusting my son with strangers. For not being there to walk him into school. For exposing him to "bus culture" when he is still so young.

But the other kids on the bus seem as starry-eyed as he is. And the attendant has kids of her own.

And despite my previous judgments, I am more comfortable loading him on the bus  because it is a bus for children with special needs--mostly preschoolers, with a handful of older children--but a familiar non-threatening world that feels oddly safe.

Maybe part of being a parent--of any child--is realizing we are capable of the unexpected.

For better or worse.

And that it's impossible to judge anything from the outside.

Comments

[Mel]

The little kiddos love riding the bus so remember to pat yourself on the back for taking this giant step. Elias looks happy, proud of himself and he should be.

[Jodi]

Congrats Christy. That's a big step.

[Catherine]

I hope you tell that distant judgy voice to shut up. It's rarely easy to give our children what makes them happiest. You did a good thing mama.

[Kyla]

Hooray for the bigga bigga bus!

[Christy]

He does LOOOVE it--even if he can't see out the window:) So I'm working on silencing that inner judge who never accepts anything as the right step. Giant steps and all.

[Stacy]

frequent reader, first-time commenter here. Elias is so sweet and i'm glad he's enjoying the bus! It looks like he left his hat behind on the steps though...hope you got it back, because that is one awesome hat.

[Christy]

Thanks Stacy, his hat was actually attached to his backpack, which we carry for him, but it does look like it might have been left behind:)

[Mel]

I nominated you for the "thinking blogger" award:)

[Angie]

The two adults helping him in that last photo look so proud. :)

[Christy]

Thank you Mel!!!!!

[Natalie]

Can I swoop him up in that lost photo???? He's one cute kid. Too precious. I'm proud of you for letting him go. What a brave mama you are...

[Stacy]

I meant to comment on this yesterday morning, sorry it's late! I just wanted to say that part about seeing the tip of his hat through the window REALLY got me. I so admire you for letting him go, for letting him do this. I think that is so brave and more importantly RIGHT for you to do that. I mean, the far easier thing is to keep our kids in a bubble. Christy, you are raising your child to be strong, to be resiliant, to be independent, abilities or disabilities, it doesn't matter--you are a Momma that is raising a wonderful human being. I am taking notes! I know I have to keep my over protective nature in check and you are inspiring me and teaching me how to do just that. Thank you!!!!

[Vicki Forman]

That's amazing.