A Bus Ride

Today was a big day at our house. 

A yellow school bus stopped at the end of our driveway at 3:30. 

It delivered a sweet girl to me and she was beaming. 

I've always driven my kids to school and I've always picked them up from school. 

Actually, my husband drives to and I pick up. 

They go to school in a rural area. 

Ten minutes down the highway for the primary school. 

Another ten minutes or so for the intermediate school. 

The primary school houses pre-school through 2nd grade. 

While the intermediate teaches grades 3-5.  

I will stand firm with my assertion that primary school is too young to ride the bus. 

Then there was Zoe's cancer. 

And the fear of germs while she was immune suppressed for two years. 

We live so far out that a bus ride to school would be close to an hour event. 

Ten minutes in the car or an hour on the bus?  

Car. 

There's a shuttle between these two schools, dropping kids from the intermediate off at the primary school which is closest to us. 

So, Zoe has been riding the shuttle since 3rd grade in the morning and after school. 

Her dad drives her and her sister Gigi to the primary school and they arrive by 7:30. 

Z jumps on the 7:30 shuttle to her school and dad takes Gigi into her school. 

Then he high tails it home for a hot cup of coffee. 

But lately, things haven't been so peachy on that shuttle bus. 

Now, I've written past posts about bullies my daughter has dealt with. 

Girls who scream in her face. 

Girls who think it's up to them to decide who can be friends with whom. 

But this bully is different. 

She's bigger. 

And meaner. 

And older. 

She's the bus driver. 

I've learned that some people just don't like children. 

And don't want to hear children. 

They forget that the children they are in charge of are loved by someone. 

That these children have rights. 

But they don't care. 

And their boss doesn't care. 

Because of.... I'm not sure why. 

But I do know one thing, I won't stand for my daughter being screamed at by someone. 

Someone who just does her job for the paycheck. 

So, we pulled Zoe off that bus.  

And told the principal why. 

And the principal called the bus barn to air our complaint.  

The principal informed me that the bus barn already knows about the situation from previous complaints.

And my husband called the bus barn to air his complaint. 

The bus barn didn't seem to care. 

We checked into a different bus and driver. 

The bus that would bring her home. 

A 40 minute ride. 

We were told that the #6 bus was a good bus. 

Not too crowded. 

A kind, non-screaming male driver would deliver our precious goods 5 days a week. 

So, today at 3:30 I waited in our driveway. 

With sister and grandma in tow. 

Not too close to the road. 

I didn't want to embarrass my 4th grader.

We waited. 

And waited. 

When is this bus coming?

Then my excitement level went beyond the treetops when the bus stopped at the end of our drive and the door opened. 

My girl. 

My girl was home. 

Out she bounded. 

The girl who has survived sickness and so much turmoil in her young life. 

She did it. 

She rode the bus all the way home from school. 

Like everyone else. 

Back To School

Another group blog topic for my blogging group Homesteaders and Homeschoolers. 

This week our topic is about "back to school."

This past weekend, a friend said she hates all of the media posts about... 

"101 Super Fun Things To Do With Your Kids This Summer!" 

or 

"Do These 25 Things With The Kids Before The Sun Sets Each Day Between June And August!"

and

"You're Not Even Close To Being A Good Mom If You Don't Hit Every Splash Pad In A 25 Mile Radius Every Single Day This Summer!"

or 

"Enjoy The Summer Before It's Too Late And Your Kids Hate You!"

So. 

Much. 

Pressure. 

And then before you know it you see the media posts about...

"Sick Of Your Kids Yet? Back To School Is Coming Up Soon!"

or

"17 Things To Do To Your Child's Lunch To Make Him/Her The Coolest Kid In The Cafeteria!"

and

"66 Homemade Gifts To Give The Teacher To Become A Brown Noser!"

Okay, she didn't say all of these things. 

But there is a lot of pressure. 

And there are media posts that we see about all of the fun things we are supposed to do with our kids during the summer. 

And then they seem to be quickly followed by posts about back to school and how we are all so over having our kids all summer long. 

It's ridiculous. 

Summer days and school days used to be easy going seasons. 

Laissez-faire events. 

In the summer you had unplanned, carefree days. 

Swimming in the creek, playing Atari, eating apples from your grandma's backyard tree. 

Or you hopped in the car for a fantastic road trip to see Mark Twain Cave or to splash in ocean waves at a beach on the coast. 

And then it was back to school time.  

New corduroys, a magenta Trapper Keeper, and one box of crayons. 

That was it. 

It all seemed easier. 

Or was it because I was the kid and not the parent?

No, I think it just was easier. 

There were no meddling posts online and zero talk shows with 60 second pieces on being better than the next person. 

No one telling us how to be a better parent to our children. 

How to make memories that, once we read about them, make us feel dumb because we hadn't thought of them on our own. 

Mothers weren't in a silent competition with every other mother in the classroom. 

There was no Pinterest with quirky teacher gifts telling us to make a homemade tag stating "You Are An Egg-Celent Teacher!" and to attach it to a certificate for a weeks worth of culinary classes. 

For a preschool teacher. 

That your kid sees for 2 hours a day. 

Maybe. 

Because some days you don't feel like taking said kid to school because you want to go to a Target and get a new scarf. 

Anyway, it's complicated. 

And it shouldn't be. 

It should be about being young and spirited in the summer. 

It should be about suntans and zoo visits and mowing the grass with the push mower. 

While back to school should be about the excitement of knowing who your teacher is going to be this year. 

And seeing who grew their hair out. 

And the smell of pencil erasers and hot lunch in the cafeteria. 

Simple. 

We all need to take it back to simple. 

And we need to, as moms, to cut ourselves some slack. 

It's hard enough raising our kids to be the best that THEY can be. 

We are already good enough. 

Love that about your mom role and go buy new jeans...for yourself.