Mom, Please Don’t Cry at the Bus Stop

You have somehow survived the Mom-I’m-boreds and the 10 a.m. what’s-for-lunches and the I-swear-I-didn’t-hit-hims. You have forgiven the sandy sandwichy beach days that burned you worse than any sun could ever threaten, thanks to the unrelenting gas prices and the parking and the snack bar and the snack bar again because someone dropped a Popsicle. You have almost-but-not-really forgotten the by-accident-on-purpose hair-cutting incident that happened one day while you dared close your eyes for a minute or two on the deck with a book resting in you lap. You even promised to never again try to make the kids go to bed before the sun sets. Lucky for you time is moving in your favor.

Now here you are, late August, lugging bags full of new shoes and dark denim jeans with no rips yet and corduroy jackets with matching clogs and tunics that you would definitely wear if they made them in your size and the coolest cowboy boots in town. And, suddenly a vision: In two short weeks, they’re going to be gone- alldaylong. The vision is so peaceful. The phone rings- you answer it. Only you answer it. You search the Internet for a recipe without an egg timer or feeling breathing down the back of your neck. You envision taking a snooze after the news at noon. Ahhh, guilt-free freedom….

But wait. What if there’s a bully on the bus and what if the gym teacher is mean again like last year and what if the third grade teacher they hired over the summer is like, a college grad and she doesn’t know how to challenge my kid and what if somebody gets lice and what if I forget to pack a spoon for the yogurt and they go hungry and what if they get on the wrong bus going home and they drive all around town feeling scared and lonely?

So off you go to call the pediatrician and set the stage for a very casual non-threatening chat about bullies and germs and appropriate hygiene and the such and discuss with her the signs of stress as your kids wait in the lobby. You dig through trillions of resources on the Internet for What to Expect From the First Day– The Not-So-Obvious Signs of Stress and What to Do About It. All, of course, as your kids breathe down your neck holding the egg timer so they read it over your shoulder and all the while begin to develop problem solving techniques. At dinner, you start the countdown, “Just 8 more days now”, you chime, to mentally prepare them for the event and the poor souls, they hardly ever find the right words to respond other than to hide behind “Mum, relax” or “Why are you still talking about that”, and move on to fight about who has more ice cream. Obvious signs of distress- denial and inability to communicate feelings.

Then it comes, the big day. The ripped jeans make a pretty strong plea, but lose. It’s too hot for the corduroy jacket and very cool cowboy boots and so wins the pair of flip flops that were beaten up all Summer long with a wicked cute dress that her friends haven’t seen….since June. Then the checklist: 5 minutes till the bus, “Do you have your lunch, your bag, your snack, your water bottle, does it have your name on it don’t share it, your supplies, your emergency phone numbers, your social security number….” And then you take a deep breath and hold back the tears. “Are you guys going to be OK?”, you ask real quietly, hoping that they just open up and talk about it.

And they look at you real funny and say “Mom, please don’t cry at the bus stop”.