You've Come A Long Way, Baby - LATEST!

This morning I got one of those calls that slaps you awake: "Mom? There was an accident..."

Let me just say up front: no one was hurt. Sasha's school bus was hit from behind as it braked for a light. There was a strong jolt but the bus wasn't damaged. The car that hit it was, but the driver--a teenager--was okay.

When Sasha called me (on the cell phone we got her only a month ago, for the express purpose of checking in with her on the bus), she wasn't upset. Rather, she sounded jovial--she and her busmates were cracking jokes while they waited for the cops to show and make a report. She was thrilled to be part of such a drama. More communicative than usual, she called several times to update me. They were waiting for the police. They were still waiting for the police. A couple of times she called to say hi, and once to say, "It's ironic we had the accident right in front of an auto collission repair shop, isn't it?!"

As I was scouring the aisles at Lowe's for painting supplies, Sasha called to report that all the kids would have to be examined, and now had to wait for that. By this time, the thrill of danger had devolved into boredom. The paramedics came and examined them, and determined that everyone was fine. The last series of calls, Sasha tried to convince me that she was traumatized, and needed the day to recover. She wanted me to come get her--whereever that was--and take her home, which another kid had convinced his father to do. "You have to come," she whimpered. "Right now!"

Aside from the fact that I saw no compelling reason for a school holiday and was extremely busy with a renovation project I'm anxious to finish, hey - I wasn't about to give up a premium parking space on an alternate side parking day! I was firm with Sasha. "You're fine," I cheerfully insisted. I knew she was, but to be certain, I talked to the bus driver, who put my mind at ease. "You're fine," I told Sasha again, lightly, then hung up before she could plead more.

It wasn't until after I completed my purchase and was on my way home that I realized: I needed Sasha to be fine. I needed this not to be a big deal, not a stop-everything kind of day. I'd already received that phone call. A million times in my head--every morning since the first morning the school bus pulled up to our house and we watched Sasha climb on and the bus drive away, as I waited for the bus to bring her home after school, on days it was raining or snowing, or when the bus was two hours late without any word from the driver or bus company--a million times I've gotten that call. Of course, in my head it was a lot worse. I've read too many news reports, heard too many gruesome tales. I needed this morning's call to not be that call.

Every parent who's travelled the road to special ed has had to overcome myriad hurdles along the way. The bus ride--a minimum of 45 minutes, but more often 75 to 90--was, believe it or not, one of the major hurdles for me in the decision to send Sasha to her special ed school. Before, she attended a local school ten minutes' walk from our house. The thought of her being driven crosstown, miles away, through streets rife with crazy drivers, by bus drivers of unknown backgrounds and questionable driving skills (several of whom, as I'll write in a later post, I've had good cause to be wary of) was almost enough to make me say forget Sasha's special needs, she's fine where she is. It's not worth it. But that would be making a decision based on fear, thinking small, not the big picture. And so: we send our daughter off into the world every morning, and have to trust that she will be returned safe and sound in the afternoon. We've come a long way...but there's still way too far to go.