The big day finally arrived. After months and months of waiting for red tape, and insurance baloney, and meeting with all the people who had to give approval, we finally got on the route to have Atti bussed to school. It’s a day I’ve been looking forward to bittersweetly, knowing it would be hard to watch him go off without me, but also excited to have more time to myself and less driving all over the place.
The morning did not go exactly as I planned. We sang wheels on the bus and talked about what would happen and all the friends he would see, and then, Catastrophe. I wheeled him out the front door to wait for the bus, turned around to grab the camera and Atti rolled off, hit the grass, and rocketed forward right onto his face.
I freaked right out and raced to pick him up, and right then is when the bus pulled up. I tried to coo and snuggle to calm him while Bear wiped the blood off of his lip, but the busdriver was unfazed. He just went about his business strapping in while I frantically sang songs and snapped pictures and acted happy and Atti screamed. He just said, “Don’t worry, he’ll get used to it,” shooed me off the bus, and drove away.
I went inside all teary, paced around the house for an hour, snacked on food I didn’t want to eat because I didn’t know what to do with myself, and finally settled down for work. Just in time to get a phone call from Atti’s teacher telling me that his face was covered in fresh scratches and that he wanted to make sure I knew nothing happened at school. I wanted to crawl in a hole. “no,” I told him, “I did that.” Oh the shame!!
He made it home in one peace, shouting “Buh Bye!” to the busdriver as soon as he saw me. He seems to have made it through his harrowing morning without a crippling life long fear of riding the bus. The busdriver told me that every time the bus went over a bump or swayed from side to side, Atti would burst out laughing. Laughing with every bump in the road. Is this my kid, or what?