Misadventures: "Your son has already been picked up"

COME AGAIN?????

Yes, indeedy, let's talk about the efficiency of (or, um, lack there of)the public school's transportation policies.

Imagine with me for a moment, your six year old son on his first day of school herded out into the hallway, having been designated a 'car rider', told to sit quietly with a bajillion other elementary kids to wait til their number is called...which means their parent with the matching number has safely navigated the snaking, crawling line of vehicles filled with other parents and had made it to the front of the pick-up line.

OK, now, imagine me sitting in that snaking, crawling line 2 BLOCKS from the actual school building (in the pouring rain don't forget) when I suddenly realize my engine is smoking. Puffy little clouds of grey-black smoke are gently wafting up thru the hood vents, and filling the air with the familiar smell of burning oil.

Yes, you guessed it. I said a bad word. Or three. I figured at this point my poor car has gone into denial about this whole sitting-for-over-an-hour 2 times a day waiting for children to either disembark or get in and buckle up. I sympathize because I'd just been envisioning a never ending stretch of bleak landscapes generally filled with Indiana license plates and tacky bumper stickers, with the occasional 'thump thump thump' reverberating from an older sibling's hotrod (who has, God forbid, been asked to retrieve a younger counterpart.)

Well, I manuevered out of the line of cars and idled my way to a driveway across the road from the school's entrance....thankfully one of my dd's friends lives there, and her family is gone all day at work or school. Which doesn't stop me from banging incessantly on her front door anyway because, horror of horrors, my cell phone is dead. (I'm desparately trying to remember my mantra, the little ditty I shared yesterday about how this is the right choice for our family for this season. Didn't work.) So......

I run over to school admidst soaking wet children, school buses, anxious parents,and exhausted staff and make my way to the office to inform them that my car is in the process of a slow death, my cell is dead, and my son is at the other end of the hallway waiting for his beloved mother to save him from this institution. "No problem" I'm told. "Just hold on and we'll radio one of the teachers to send him down here." Whilst waiting for sight of my precious boy, I'm catching my breath and playing scenarios in my mind of how we're going to get home if I can't get the car to start or drive or whatever. After 10 full minutes, some staff woman realizes my child has still not appeared and offers to go down and get him herself. I'm waking up to the realization that perhaps something's rotten in the State of Denmark, but dismiss the thought quickly, blaming my over-active imagination on the current car crisis.

Another FULL 10 MINUTES ticks by, and frankly, I'm not a happy camper anymore. Just then I see previous staff woman coming back down the hall sans my son with a telling expression...one of "oh God this parent is going to be pissed" mixed with an obvious attempt to look non-chalant and in control. My heart goes to my throat, then to my shoes, then out my ears. I feel the surging waves of adrenaline, panic, and mother bear instinct arising in my innards...the caged animal who refuses to be silent any longer.

"Your son has already been picked up."

OH NO HE HASN'T. I say this firmly, threateningly, and not without a little accusation in my tone. She replies just as condescendingly "We only let the child go with a person who's number matches that on his bookbag". Realizing I don't have the luxury of time to throw a tantrum, I immediately give way to panic and begin blabbing 100 miles a minute that no one else even knows his number....that I hadn't even given my husband the retarded neon orange laminated number card for his car's visor....that someone else has my child and we don't know anyone else at this school....and-and-and-and-and OH GOD!!!!

Those just inside the office are now aware something might not be going as well as it should, and I'm sorta gently man-handled to the back office and told to try calling my husband and they'd look up the numbers for my other listed emergency contacts. This is all a blur for me....I remember hearing over and over in my head that my baby had already been picked up, my baby had already been picked up, my baby had already been picked up....being angry that I couldn't remember my husband's phone number....that this was a ploy to get me out of the public's eye and give them time to cover their own assinine mistake, because I already knew my dh had most certainly NOT picked up S from school....

Shaking fingers, hushed conversations next door, a hand on my back, my son's name being called over the radios....one ring, (this is SOOO STUPID! This cannot be HAPPENING!!!) two rings, (Oh S, where could you be?! I'm TERRIFIED!!) three rings (I'm going to faint, who has taken you???).....

And then in the blink of an eye, life grinds to a halt, wheels smoking, and I heard someone yell "Sandy! Where has he been? We have a mother freaking out back here!" And I threw the phone receiver down, knocked over the body guard staff woman, and jumped over the desk chair. MY BABY! He was looking at all of us with a confused look, holding his teacher's hand. Everything in the periphery of my vision went fuzzy and the heavens opened over my beautiful son's little chubby cheeks. Never has his brown eyes looked more delicious...

My lovely companion thru this ordeal had been told that S had been called out to the loading area and had been picked up. What had actually happened is this: when his name was called, the teacher in charge didn't hear the "send him down to the office" part and just sent him outside with the next group of riders. When his group had all been picked up, another teacher saw him standing alone outside wondering where his mommy was (can you imagine his confusion and fear????). They brought him inside and down to the office, which is standard procedure when the parent evidently doesn't show up.

And now you're up to speed.

But I wasn't up to speed yet. I was standing on legs of rubber, eyes blurred with tears, and a heart that was having trouble expressing anything coherently to the (obviously relieved) staff. I vaguely remember them throwing offers at me like "use our phone if your car is broke down" and "please don't walk home in the rain" and other stuff...to which I graciously declined and thanked them while in my head I was saying "too little too late, you assholes". I realize it was an honest mistake made on the first day of school, when the pouring rains brought even the walkers' parents out to pick them up. Mass confusion and frustration for everyone. I realize this logically, and of course forgive them for the oversight. But, damn, don't ever let it happen to MY KID again, get it?

Well the van did start and I idled it home, came in the house to chattering teenagers exploding with the familiar drama of The First Day Of School. I was finally able to breathe a "thank you" to the Powers that Be for the way the day turned out, for helping me relish the 6 hours of peace that allowed me to deposit what ever that earthy, magical, divine stuff is that gets a mother thru life and death episodes of panic over her offspring. I actually giggled as I suddenly recalled S's words to me as our car pulled (er, limped) away from the school: "Hey Mom, the sauce we had with our enchiladas was really yummy".


Ah yes, I remember: his first day of school...."so what did you learn today?"

"Lots of stuff, but I don't remember any of it." (said thru the suck-suck-sucking of his fingers in the car seat behind me...it'd been a long day and he needed his fix(Remind me of the mantra again?)





PS. The only residual blip today was my teary eyed 6 year old coming out to the van after school, shyly smiling in relief that his mommy truly didn't forget him today....it just took soooo long for them to call his number, and my car was behind bigger cars toward the end of the loading area and so invisible to him as he walked in faith toward something, anything, that looked familiar. He said he was "just a little bit worried" I wasn't going to come. I told him he was my courageous boy, that I was very proud of him, and that I would NEVER NEVER NEVER leave him at school.

"I know Mommy." God love him!