Sigh.  This morning a train broke down on the tracks in the middle of our road.  The road that the bus uses to get to our house.  As the train was on its 2nd hour of sitting there, I got a call from the bus company saying that they were not going to be able to make it to our house because of said train.

Sigh.  I figured that much.  Either Christian would miss school or I’d have to drive him in.  I chose to drive him.  I knew this would not be what he wanted, but I wasn’t prepared for what was going to happen for the next 1/2-hour.

He happily put on his shoes for me.  He happily walked from the living room through the laundry area and into the garage.  He happily ran outside as I opened the garage door.  Then he saw me unlocking the car.  He screamed like I was torturing him and ran back into the house.  Fine.  I continued to unlock all of the doors, throw in his backpack, and talk Liv into getting into her seat before chasing Christian down.

He was back in the living room taking off his shoes while  giving me the “stink eye” and he let out a ear-deafening scream as I walked towards him.  I did what I had to do — scooped him up, grabbed his shoes, and blocked out all noise and body blows as I hustled to the car.  He grabbed every doorway as we fought through, holding on like his life depended on it.  We were both determined, but with opposite agendas.

After finally getting out the car and Christian buckled into his seat, I started backing out the driveway as Christian attempted an escape.  (Poor Olivia having to endure the decibels in the backseat!! 😦 )  I rebuckled him before getting on the road, but drove with one hand over the release button so that he couldn’t pull a repeat “Houdini.” 

I was hoping that maybe, just maybe, we could get to school before the buses unloaded and that he could get on his bus, sit for a minute, get all of the anger (because of routine changes) out of his system, and go into school with his friends as happy as he is any other morning.

But because of all of the wrestling, we arrived as his bus pulled out of the parking lot.  I opened his door and unbuckled him.  He screamed and tried to rebuckle himself.  I picked him up as he threw his weight around trying to get out of my arms and back into the car.  He repeatedly talked about an “Airplane” and a “Ride.”  Does he want to ride on an airplane???  We scrambled across the parking lot to the building with Olivia following behind as I tried not to drop this flailing body.

We followed his class down the hallway.  He screamed and punched and kicked and dropped and jumped all the way through the school.  My heart broke a little more with every step.

When we finally arrived at his room, he dropped to the floor attempting to bang his head on the ground while trying to put his backpack on and flee back the way we came.  I wanted to cry.  But I couldn’t.  It was not an option in that moment.  I needed to stay calm and reassure him that he would be fine.  As I spoke those words to him, I think I was trying to reassure myself that I would be fine, too.  I said a quick prayer asking for strength, kissed him on the top of his head, and walked out the door while his teachers held him back from running after me.

Liv and I walked back to the car as I realized that I had dropped my keys somewhere between the car and Christian’s classroom.  Sigh.  We continued to walk back towards the parking lot as a man walked in holding a set of keys that he said he had found in the middle of the driveway.  Whew.  That problem solved.

As Liv and I started our drive back home, I lost it.  The tears came flooding and I could not stop them.  This cry was coming from deep inside my heart.  I had 10 minutes to get this out of my system before we got home as I didn’t want to have to explain to Liv why her mommy was crying like that.  (And we were having a playdate at our house this morning and I wanted to get a few more things picked up before they arrived.  KK, I know you would have understood, but I would have been embarrassed.  And thanks for the coffee!!! 🙂 )

We arrived home with me tearless, but emotionally shot.  I still feel that way.

Christian’s teacher was kind enough to give me a call after he was at school for an hour to let me know that he had calmed down after they had taken a walk outside to look for airplanes.  They didn’t find any, but apparently he was hungry for snack time when they came back in.  And he was fine for the rest of the morning.  He was happy to see me when I picked him up.  He was still talking about “airplane ride.”  Perhaps I need to find a pilot in the area who could take him up for 10 minutes.

I sure hope we don’t have any more broken down trains any time soon…