August 21 Thursday
The morning alarm wakes me and my husband almost every morning between 6:00AM and 6:30AM. The alarm is my youngest daughter and her internal clock is like a rooster, at morning's first light her cries force us to open our eyes, get up, and out of bed. This particular morning was greeted with an explainable fervor. I was up for the challenge of welcoming this day with a prioritized schedule of preparing myself, and my son, and the rest of the family with minimum delay. The yellow bus was scheduled to arrive for a pickup time of 8:20ish.
7:30AM The coffee was percolating and the kids were sitting haphazardly at their table with jelly sandwiches and milk. It was at this time, while I was in the bathroom, that my son proclaims to his dad, "I do not want to go to school" Just like that with no explanation, he just did not want to go. My husband and I tag teamed the rest of the morning trying to figure out what event led up to this statement. What could be the logical explanation for this unexpected comment? Not wanting to go to school, a statement coming from a boy who has been looking forward to this day since the end of Kindergarten. Since the end of summer camp my son had been checking off the days from his calendar, until school started. We encouraged our son's behavior for his joy of learning and followed his lead from the first time he proclaimed that he loved school.
8:10AM My son and I talked over brushing teeth, and from what I recall the conversation went.
Mommy G: How come you do not want to go to school?
KP: Because I don't want to, (sniffled cries)
Mommy G: What would you rather do?
KP: I want daddy to go to school with me?
Mommy G: Daddy is going to work?
KP: I want to stay here with you?
Mommy G: No, kids go to school.
We rambled on for the next 10 minutes or so and found ourselves outside waiting for the bus. Families dotted the curbside here and there waiting for the school bus pickup. About this time, the big boy became full of emotion and let out a waterfall of tears and cries, exclaiming, "I don't want to go to school." (add in the effects of cries in between each word).
By the time the bus arrived the cries and screams became louder and more forceful. The piercing scream hit me into a whirlwind of emotion and feelings of confusion. I mean what am I suppose to do in this case? This never happened to us before. I never even thought to prepare for this kind of situation.
In school bus pickup timing it seemed an eternity for my son to get on the bus. Cars were stopped two or three behind the school bus obeying the STOP sign that keeps cars safely from harming kids as they cross the street and enter the bus. The family down the street patiently awaited this exact bus to come around for a pick up.
The scenario only gets worse. My big boy who cuddled into my arms burying his teary eyes into my shoulder was getting loose. He was trying to get away from me because he could sense that I was inching closer and closer to the curb. Every muscle in his body was going to get him far away from me and the bus.
My son is one of the last stops on the route, which only meant that the bus was full of kids. Eyes stared out the windows, and windows started to mist up as the spectacle of a young child slipping through mom's fingers and mom running having to catch her son unfolded on the sidewalk.
With the encouragement of a seasoned mother also at the same bus stop, I was advised to get my son onto the bus. And that was what I did. I stepped up on the bus said hello to the bus driver and the rest of the kids, asked a kind girl sitting in the front seat to move her brand spanking new High School Musical backpack, strapped the belt over my son's lap, turned and left.
I fought every urge to turn around and whisk my son into my arms, wipe his tears, and calm his fears. After making sure that my son did not try to jump off at the next stop, I rushed to my phone and called the school to make them apprise of the situation. I was reassured by the kind voice on the other line that my son was in good hands and they would wait for him at school.
I waited by the phone thinking that every call was the school office telling me to come pick up my son. That call never happened and at the end of day I met my son with open arms as he stepped down from his school bus. He wasn't crying anymore, his eyes were slightly puffy, but his face was smiling.
Looking back in hindsight, it becomes clear to me that my son was nervous for his first day, and this was his way of communicating his fears. Today he was ready for school, and out the door before I could wipe up his milk mouth. The rest of his school day life time is set. This marks the beginning of daily grinds forthcoming.
Something was burdening me throughout the day, and I felt my heart heavy. I missed my son. This realisation is what makes my heart sad. My son whom I encouraged to become independent and take on new experiences and challenges is doing just that, making his own decisions and being on his own. Yes, I know what you are thinking, G he is only in first grade, what decisions will he be making? What to order from the lunch menu? Which colors to use out of his crayola box?
It was that time that we spent together no matter what it was that we did, that I had the opportunity to have with him. The whole days of figuring out what we were going to have for lunch and where we were going to eat. Figuring out who we were going to meet at the park, what the errands for the day were, and what books we were going to read before nap. I did all these things today with my two younger kids, and felt a heaviness in my heart. I missed my oldest son. He was not there during the day to help me cross the parking lot into the store (We all hold hands and he makes sure his younger brother and sister cross safely). He was not there to tell his brother and sister which slot to use at the library book return. (They always put books into the AV materials slot). And I will never have that time again to make those memories.
My son is coming home in the next ten minutes and I plan to hug and kiss him when he jumps off the school bus. The young kids are still sleeping so maybe I will be able to share a quiet moment with him. Knowing he will be home soon makes my chest feel lighter, and I know I will always keep a special place in my heart just for him.
