Jonathan's First Field Trip

Field trips and bus rides are an inevitable part of school. It had been my plan to dodge the school bus until at least middle school. It was also my plan to go on as many field trips as my boys would let me. Unfortunately plans don't always work out the way I think they should...

Enter Jonathan's first field trip...

The whole fiasco started on the morning I unsuspectingly came to pick up Jonathan from just another day of preschool. I was caught completely off guard when his teacher handed me a slip of paper expecting me to sign my consent (at that moment) for him to go on a field trip with his class the following week. With a smile on her face she told me they were only going across town and quickly added they had rented a chartered school bus to transport the students. She seemed pretty excited but her smile faded when I did not share the same enthusiasm.

I could feel the blood rushing to my face. How could I sign that piece of paper? Field trips and bus rides were not part of the plan, remember? I struggled to come up with an intelligent response. I told her that I couldn't sign the paper and would have to talk to my husband about it.

I must stop my story here and try to catch all of my faithful blog stalkers up on why this troubled me. I have an undergraduate degree in mathematics (that I am choosing not to use,) I was a certified high school math teacher (until I decided to let my certificate expire,) and am currently three classes away from a graduate degree in education. I am a first born child and embrace all that my birth order has predestined for me. I am stubborn, especially when it comes to issues that I feel strongly about. I often make no sense to others while making perfect sense in my mind. Above all, I try to be the best mother I am capable of. I parent with my heart and could care less if someone disagrees with my decisions.

OK, that last sentence is a bit untrue...but...do you get what I am trying to say???

Back to the story...

With trembling hands I strapped the boys into the car then called my husband. I told him of the terrible request put upon me and wondered what he thought. I think he disguised his laughing as a cough and tried to respond to me knowing I was being irrational (yet trying not to hurt my feelings.) He told me that it wasn't a big deal and I should have signed the paper. I reminded him of "the plan" but then remembered it was my plan, not his. He told me to "let it go."

The following day, still struggling whether to give my consent, the phone rang. It was Jonathan's teacher. She explained that there were going to be extra seats on the bus and I was welcome to come if I would like. I told her that I would have to check with my husband and let her know at school the following day. With my hope restored (sometimes plans change) I called my husband and told him the great news. Again, trying to be loving and encouraging (but not demeaning,) he told me that now I was one of 'those' parents. You know the ones...they're never happy with the teacher or district, take up too much of the teacher's time, and above all, get calls from the teacher at home. At that moment I decided to sign the paper because I did not want to be one of 'those' parents.

I walked into school the next day with the paper in hand. Feeling calm, cool, and collected (on the outside) I tried to downplay the scene I made on the previous school day. I proudly handed the consent form over to the teacher and told her my husband had told me to "let it go." She asked me if I was sure and I heard myself say "yes" but my mind was screaming "no!" Nothing was mentioned when I picked up Jonathan from school that day but that doesn't mean I wasn't thinking about the situation.

All weekend I debated whether to take her up on her offer to ride along.

The dreaded day came and I coached Jonathan all morning about being a good friend on the bus and staying where the teacher could see him at all times. I walked him in, snapped some pictures (because even though I was in turmoil I had to think of the scrapbook) and kissed him good-bye. Then I went back out the the car and waited. I watched them load the bus. I watched them pull away. I made eye contact with the teacher in the bus AND SHE WAVED AT ME. Then I started to cry. I should have gone! I could hardly breath. I knew I made the wrong decision. I had to fight the urge to follow the bus (while fighting the feeling that I had just made a fool of myself for watching the bus drive away.)

Drew and I went to Wal-mart to pass the time. We bought donuts (comfort food) and took one to Chris at work. I shared with him my inner turmoil and told him that I should have listened to my heart (like the 80's band Roxette-who my husband has a very strong allegiance to-song so eloquently states.)

Before long it was time to pick Jonathan up. I was so relieved to see him. He said he had a good time and seemed to be emotionally stable. When I saw his teacher she asked me if I was OK. I felt stupid but said yes. Remember, I'm one of 'those' parents.

Never in my wildest dreams would I have considered myself to be a difficult parent but it seems as if I am well on my way to being the butt of the teachers' jokes. It's amazing how quickly I moved from educator to parent...I mean a difficult parent...actually, more along the lines of "one of 'those' parents."

So there you have it. My insane world of obsessiveness over my children. I hope I don't ruin them. I also hope you enjoyed a laugh or two while reading this entry.