The Wheels on the Bus...

Put That Little Red-Headed Fellow on his Little Yellow Bus for the first time this week so he can go to his Special School. Now, I am sure mothers face more terrifying situations every day, but I am also absolutely sure that most of those mothers are naturally way braver about all that stuff they need to be brave about. Most mothers would not whine about an all morning stomach ache and then, after waiving gaily (maniacally, even) at the taillights of that baby bus with my baby on it (and only four other students and two accredited adults going to the one place and, after all, they get there just fine every other day, but this time they took my LRHF), most mothers would not hurl themselves into some SUDDENLY VERY IMPORTANT TRELLIS CONSTRUCTION and OTHER ABSOLUTELY THIS MINUTE NECESSARY GARDEN STUFF just to hide the weepies. Now, I'll grant you, I got a LOT of trellises built, but there comes a point when you have to ask yourself how many is too many?Dh didn't stop me until I was darn near finished a sort of limpy-looking pergola. It's for the best, really, that thing would never have survived any actual plants with leaves and stuff. .
Oh, my baby. My sweet LRHF. On that little bus in his little public school uniform. Going into the city (it's not Manhattan, folks...believe me). Word School, we call it. So he can get his words, we tell his brothers. It's pretty much the truth, too, so it makes sense to them too. And the Fuzzy Headed Fellow is boiling jealous over the bus thing. He thinks he could use some of that there Word School, too. I lean more toward boarding school for him (insert the weak laughter of a half-joking late-day mother here).

It was a very long day for the not-brave mommies. A long looking-out-the-window day. To be fair, tho, we must remember that I am not what you might call a "let's keep busy and get our jobs done" kind of mommy in the first place, so don't get all concerned over that.

He made it okay, just fine even, my Beautiful Boy on His Bus. Arrived home to cheering crowds who certainly would have hoisted him upon their shoulders had the driveway hill not been such an a trip up the Andes in the first place. Instead, Mommy got to carry all 46 lbs of LRHF all the way up that s.o.b. hill. I don't care. There was triumph and there was joy. I thought for a second that there was ticker tape, but turns out that his bookbag was open and stuff was flying out in the breeze.

You can bet, though, you can be absodamnlutely sure, that for all time, in my mommy heart and in his LRH heart, we had us some fine tickertape coming down on us that September day.

He goes back tomorrow.
*sigh*