First time on the school bus!
Just like he’d done when going to preschool for the first time, he bounded away and I had to call him back for a hug. HRH and I watched the bus pull out, the boy’s face sporting a big grin as he took his seat; we waved madly as the bus went down the street, and yes, I felt that wrench.
I didn’t cry till forty minutes later on the highway on the way to do groceries, though. And I sat there at a red light with tears on my face, wondering why. I think it has to do with the huge step he’s taking, going somewhere on his own and making his own way through new situations. I can empathise with the enormity of that, and how overwhelming it can be at times when you least expect it. Getting on that bus for the first time symbolizes quite a lot. He is strong and cheerful and brave and social, and I don’t anticipate problems with him adjusting at all, although I fully expect his sensitivity will raise a few interesting questions about the other children’s behaviour. He’s already having a fabulous time with the whole idea of the bus and school, and eager to meet new friends.
I’ll pick him up from his half-day at lunch, and I expect to hear a lot of enthusiastic but slightly garbled reports.