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I’ve been running in the mornings lately. I’m working real-world hours so 7:30 is the only time I can squeak out some time to sweat. This also happens to be the time when children stand at the curb and wait for the school bus.
This morning, I passed half a dozen groups of children, some of them with their parents. I found it endearing at first. One father sat on the curb in his office clothes picking blades of grass with his daughter while they waited. The way his head was bowed, I could tell they were having a deep conversation. Another mom stood at the corner with her daughter who clutched her lunchbox in front of her with both hands. The mom stood there smiling with her cup of coffee raised at hip level and said Good Morning to me as I ran past. Some kids stood alone, so that made me wonder why some parents choose to stand at the curb with their children and some parents don’t. Maybe some kids just wouldn’t have it, to be doted over like that. Or, they’re too busy. Or, they trust the world the way we all used to.
This got me thinking about what kind of mother I’ll be when my daughter is old enough to ride a school bus to school. Which got me stirred up into a mild panic attack about the inevitability of this day arriving all too soon. And I just couldn’t fathom doing it as calmly as these parents were. Then that bus came roaring around the corner with its four-foot wheels and blazing yellow skin and, frankly, I was scared of it. But more than that, I was scared to think someday I’d have to put my daughter on it and then a year and a half later, my baby boy. What if there was nobody to sit next to? And what happens when they get there? How will they know where to go? They’re just children. Who will be there to hold their hand?
All I can say is, it’s a good thing my time hasn’t come for this scary school bus dilemma because clearly, I’m not ready.
Friday, September 5, 2008
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5 comments:
"Scary school bus" means something different to me now. My elementary kids have usually been ok on the bus - aside from having to discuss the meaning of certain colorful language with them, I haven't had too many concerns about my younger kids riding. Middle and high school kids? Yeah....I don't think so. On the FIRST day of school last week, my middle schooler said the bus had to pull over because some boys were having a fist fight in the back of the bus. On the second day, there were so many kids that they were sitting three to a seat and some kids were sitting in the aisles. On the third day, and every day since, I have just driven her to and from school. My high schooler will not even entertain the thought of riding the bus, and I don't blame her a bit. Overcrowded districts and high operating costs have made transportation to and from school a total nightmare. I feel very blessed that I am home during those hours, so driving them is no big deal (just a bit of an inconvenience some days). I really wish I could have the innocent picture in my head of the big yellow school bus. Unfortunately, where we're at, those days are long gone.
(oh...i'm so sorry for the long response...clearly it struck a nerve with me!)
Did you see So Sioux Me's post about Bus Radio where they have (evil) radio ads trying to get the elementary kids to watch the new 90210? That's scary.
Have you done the math to find out if your kids will be one or two years apart in school?
Oh, and by the time there old enough, there won't be any gas left so - hey, problem solved. Glad I could help.
And glad I could leave a typo in my comment. Just keepin' it real. Arrrrgghhhhh! They + are = They're.
I got scared just reading this. It's really a good thing we've got a few years before having to face this hurdle.
SO not ready.
In Denver, middle and high school students get a pass for the public bus - no school buses for them. The thought of putting Axel, all alone and probably smaller than the other kids, on the bus alone in 6th grade freaks me out. I'm not ready, either.
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I’ve been running in the mornings lately. I’m working real-world hours so 7:30 is the only time I can squeak out some time to sweat. This also happens to be the time when children stand at the curb and wait for the school bus.
This morning, I passed half a dozen groups of children, some of them with their parents. I found it endearing at first. One father sat on the curb in his office clothes picking blades of grass with his daughter while they waited. The way his head was bowed, I could tell they were having a deep conversation. Another mom stood at the corner with her daughter who clutched her lunchbox in front of her with both hands. The mom stood there smiling with her cup of coffee raised at hip level and said Good Morning to me as I ran past. Some kids stood alone, so that made me wonder why some parents choose to stand at the curb with their children and some parents don’t. Maybe some kids just wouldn’t have it, to be doted over like that. Or, they’re too busy. Or, they trust the world the way we all used to.
This got me thinking about what kind of mother I’ll be when my daughter is old enough to ride a school bus to school. Which got me stirred up into a mild panic attack about the inevitability of this day arriving all too soon. And I just couldn’t fathom doing it as calmly as these parents were. Then that bus came roaring around the corner with its four-foot wheels and blazing yellow skin and, frankly, I was scared of it. But more than that, I was scared to think someday I’d have to put my daughter on it and then a year and a half later, my baby boy. What if there was nobody to sit next to? And what happens when they get there? How will they know where to go? They’re just children. Who will be there to hold their hand?
All I can say is, it’s a good thing my time hasn’t come for this scary school bus dilemma because clearly, I’m not ready.
Scary school bus
This morning, I passed half a dozen groups of children, some of them with their parents. I found it endearing at first. One father sat on the curb in his office clothes picking blades of grass with his daughter while they waited. The way his head was bowed, I could tell they were having a deep conversation. Another mom stood at the corner with her daughter who clutched her lunchbox in front of her with both hands. The mom stood there smiling with her cup of coffee raised at hip level and said Good Morning to me as I ran past. Some kids stood alone, so that made me wonder why some parents choose to stand at the curb with their children and some parents don’t. Maybe some kids just wouldn’t have it, to be doted over like that. Or, they’re too busy. Or, they trust the world the way we all used to.
This got me thinking about what kind of mother I’ll be when my daughter is old enough to ride a school bus to school. Which got me stirred up into a mild panic attack about the inevitability of this day arriving all too soon. And I just couldn’t fathom doing it as calmly as these parents were. Then that bus came roaring around the corner with its four-foot wheels and blazing yellow skin and, frankly, I was scared of it. But more than that, I was scared to think someday I’d have to put my daughter on it and then a year and a half later, my baby boy. What if there was nobody to sit next to? And what happens when they get there? How will they know where to go? They’re just children. Who will be there to hold their hand?
All I can say is, it’s a good thing my time hasn’t come for this scary school bus dilemma because clearly, I’m not ready.