Life in the Slow Lane

Now that my youngest son has started kindergarten, there are three boys to get out the door in the morning. OK, two, because my husband gets rid of one of them without even waking me. I am happy to leave this 6 am wake-up routine to Mr. Bright and Cheery because I am NOT a morning person (besides, I woke up Mr. Coma for many, many years, even when I worked, and I was quite happy to pass on that baton). My 7 year old has always been a late sleeper, and, despite getting up for years at 5:30 am and bouncing in our bed, my 5 year old is becoming quite the little bed bug as well. Because of a change in the bus schedule, their bus ride this year is about 50 minutes long. So, between our sleepy-headedness, my five year old's stringent desire to NOT ride the bus for 50 minutes, AND my having to be at the middle school to volunteer two days a week, I confess that I've been driving them to school more days than not.

Enter the Bus Lane.

Our bus lane is really just a traffic pattern. The parking spaces are in the middle, with the driving lane in a big oval around them. It's wide enough that people can pull up to the crosswalk that crosses the buses-only lane, while other people can go around them to leave the lot or to find a parking space. In a school with only 400 kids, there's really no need for a highly-organized teachers-get-kids-from-cars-and-parents-better-stay-in-their-seats-and-be-ready-to-move-on extravaganza. But, really, people, can't you show some common courtesy?

Almost every time we go to the school, there is someone in front of us who wants to make a huge production out of getting out of the car. For a week or so, we got stuck repeatedly behind the same Dad (how's that for dumb luck?), who got out of the car, got a kid out of the driver's side, walked around and got the other kid out of the passenger side, handed them their backpacks, gave goodbye hugs, and then stood at the crosswalk and watched his daughters walk the whole way into the school before getting into his car and driving forward so the next person could drop off. Today (in case you're wondering what set me off on this tirade), we pulled up behind a big black van, its doors shut. I assumed that the parent was watching her children walk into the school, as more people than not seem to feel the need to do this, no matter how many people are waiting behind them. Since we were directly behind her, next to an empty handicapped space, I went ahead and let the kids out. Still, it sat there. I was stuck, since I'd been stupid enough to pull too close (you know, assuming that she was about to pull away). The parents lined up behind me got out of their cars and started escorting their children to the crosswalk, as it was getting late. Finally, there was MOVEMENT in the car, and kids started getting out. Yes, dear reader, the whole time they were sitting there, they were GETTING READY to get out. Find a parking space, idiot, if it takes that much work to get your kids out of the car.

Now, when we pull up, my second grader opens the van door; both boys hop out; second grader closes van door; boys head into crosswalk; and I pull ahead. Sometimes, after I've pulled out of the drop-off spot, I'll pause and watch them--they generally walk straight into the school, looking fairly cheery, sometimes greeting people they see, but not dawdling outside. During the first few weeks of school, my second grader walked my kindergartener to his classroom without being asked to do so. While I still like to snuggle with them in bed in the morning and push the snooze button a few times, and they, more often than not, drive me nuts, it's also nice to know that they are growing up into self-sufficient boys who don't need their Mommy to hand them their backpacks and watch to make sure they make it into the school from no further than they'd go if they were getting off the bus.

And that's my silver lining for today.