Porcelain Gods and Country Roads

As we walked to the bus stop this morning looking for the grasshopper and singing, she asked me if today was a short day like yesterday and I said no.  She wined a little as she had been wining a little all morning about leaving home and going to school. 

We got to the bus stop and looked for the kitty.  She wasn't there.  O looked up to me and said, "Mommy, I have to go to the bathroom."  OK, I thought, we can take care of this.  I'm a problem solver.  Last night I figured out how to open up a bottle of wine without a corkscrew, surely I can solve this one.  Think, Tasha, think.  If I walk her home and she misses the bus, I will need to drive her to school.  After all this work of keeping her mornings consistent, I can't drive her.  My husband said, "Keep with the routine."  I will.

Oh wait!  I know!  She can go behind a tree.  From the time she was potty trained, we used the bathroom outside.  That way if she ever needed to go, and there wasn't a bathroom nearby, she had options.  When I was little I could never go outside.  I always had to use the actual toilet.  I still can't go without the porcelain God underneath me and this was especially a problem in high school when I was partying on dirt roads in Kansas, especially for my friends May and Annie.  I distinctly remember them making the sound of water to help create the flow.  It never worked, but I'm still grateful for their patience.

As I looked for a tree, I realized there were none that weren't on someone's property.  I looked around to see if there were any neighbors with homes nearby who would let us use their bathroom.  Seconds later, the big yellow bus pulled up.  My heart dropped.  O kept saying, "No mommy, I really have to go."  I hesitated as I weighed my options.  Do I take her back home and drive her to school or do I put her on the bus and pray she makes it?  I got down on my hands and knees and prayed to...not really.  I got down and looked her in the eyes.  I said, "O, you can do this.  If  you have an accident on the bus, it's ok.  You have extra clothes at school.  You will be there in five minutes."  She nodded her head.  I walked her on the bus, set her next to Mimi and Lina, the second grade twins that ALWAYS save her a seat on the bus.  I told them about O and why she was upset.  I gave her a hug, a kiss and a kissing hand and she began to cry, "No.  Mommy.  I want you."  I replied, "I know, O.  You can do this."

I told our bus driver to ensure she got off the bus fast and first and he nodded.  Meanwhile I'm certain he was thinking, "All right crazy lady who walks her child on the bus EVERY day to give her kisses and hugs, while I wait for you to get off so I can drive these kids to school.  Sure!"  I waved to the bus as it drove away and ran home.  My was heart pounding, not because I haven't sprinted since high school when I almost got caught sneaking out of my house, but rather because of the emotional toll it was taking on me.

I ran in the door, grabbed the phone and called her school.  I told the sweet woman in the office that I just wanted to put a bug in her ear and let her know the drama that was coming her way.  She took down O's name and classroom teacher and bus number, and said she'd look into it.  I said goodbye and I hung up.

Tears filled my eyes.  I did not meet my child's needs.  She just had to potty.  Why didn't I just take her home?  I could have totally driven her to school.  I call a girlfriend to talk me through it.  The first two didn't answer, but my girlfriend Sara, who also happens to be Mimi and Lina's mom, said "Well Hello" in the most gentle and happy tone.  I told her what happened.  She validated my actions.  She told me that Mimi and Lina do not have extra clothes in their lockers, so the school would have called her by now.  She added, "If they smell like pee when they get home, I might be able to conclude what happened but I never knows with those two".  Nothing like a good friend to make one laugh through tears.  

When she came off the bus this afternoon, she had hop in her step and most importantly, she was wearing the same clothes she dressed herself in the is morning.  She ran right into my arms with a big smile.  I asked her if she made it to school and she replied, yes.  YAY!  

When things like this happen, we keep with the same routine. we roll with it and then we reflect on it later.  I came to reason if I had driven her to school this may be her excuse every day we get to the bus stop.   Upon reflection, she was empowered.  She learned that she is in charge of making sure she goes to the bathroom before she goes to the bus stop.  She learned to listen to her body.  I learned to trust in the universe and whatever the outcome, we will gain from the experience.  

Another dear friend of mine said, "Kindergarten sucks for the parents cause we carry the weight of our kids struggles and wrestle with our own too."  She is right.  As a parent, it's double the pleasure AND the pain.  And, really, in the big picture I have a very good reason to have a glass of wine tonight, or if I feel so inclined, a bottle for that matter.  Now friends, I have to go potty - inside or outside you'll know tomorrow. 

Kindergarten SUCKS!