Lion and Magic Boy

My baby took the bus today to school. By himself.

Oh, I know. Zillions of children take the bus every day to school. Every day. What’s the big deal?

They’re not my baby, that’s what.

Over-protective? Me? Let’s examine the evidence, shall we?

Nathaniel clung to my leg every time I dropped him off through two years of mixed-age Waldorf kindergarten, the gentlest place in the universe for a child outside of his mother’s womb. I used to substitute in the kindergarten classroom from time to time and each time I fervently wished that I could be 4 or 5 again and stay there every day. I finally found out at the end of the second year that once I left Nathaniel became a different child entirely, leading his little entourage everywhere and becoming an insiration for the class instead of sitting glumly alone on the rocking charir in the corner the way I thought he had been.

Serena still clings a little, although she’s in 1st grade now.

I always honored the clinginess, knowing that if the child was supported during the early years, eventually a strength would accumulatee making clinging no longer necessary.

But Eric, he’s so…little. He’s still the size of a small 2-year old, if that. He doesn’t say a lot of words that most people would recognize. He doesn’t walk yet.

He’s my baby.

But I realized that Eric isn’t necessarily like my other children. He long ago let me know in no uncertain terms that he had his own agenda, thank you, and I needed to just stand back and let him at it.

So I’m standing back.

All morning we talked about him getting on the bus, riding the bus. I made it a point for him to watch Nathaniel and Serena get on their bus. He knew he was going to school, and he’s been there before but never on the bus and never alone.

The bus pulled up.

We were ready. Eric’s coat was on, his socks and shoes were on, I had packed him a little basket with his snack, and for an hour after the older children left we sang “Eric’s going to ride the bus. Eric’s going to go to school today. Eric’s going to ride the bus.”

We got on. I strapped him into the car seat they provided and made acquaintance with the bus driver, Gwen. The only other occupant was a little boy in a wheelchair, Kareem. This is not your usual bus.

Eric waved goodbye, then began to look around as if to say, “This is interesting. I wonder what’s going to happen next?”

My little boy. Not so little today.