Dear Drop-Off-Lane-Mom,
Hey You - You honked at me in the school drop-off line
today. Seriously. I’m guessing it’s because we weren’t
moving. I’m guessing it’s because you saw
my sweet Riley standing patiently outside my van on the curb, not closing the
door and walking into school. I’m
guessing you thought I was having some wonderfully long conversation with Riley while the van door was wide open. You
probably thought I was crazy as I inched forward a few times, door open, and
Riley moved alongside. So you honked at
me to get me going. I don’t know your
name and I have a few in mind for you, but for now we will just call you
Inpatient and Clueless.
Inpatient. The line
doesn’t change. It’s a slight U drive,
actually more like an extended right hand lane where 10 cars fit snugly. To get there, most of us have to go past the
school and make a U-Turn to get to the other side of the median. At that point if the line was too long, you
could always park across the street and let your kids use the cross walk. Since you made the turn, you have chosen to
wait in the line. Your child can get out at any point in the drive and then you
can move back into traffic. You have a
choice, every morning, you can choose to shoo your child out of your car anywhere in that U drive and move
on with your day. Or, you can choose to
be patient as you move forward and wait your turn to send your kids off closer
to the front door. There are cute little
6th graders in bright yellow safety patrol jackets just waiting
along the line to open and close doors for you and tell you to have a good day.
But, if you choose to wait, be warned that you are choosing to wait.
There are parents who let their kids finish breakfast before
they get out of the car. There are moms
who have to get out and open big heavy doors for little people.
There are moms watching their sweet little kindergartener take every
single step from the car to the door, every single day. There are students who have instruments or
backpacks stowed in trunks. And you see
a lot of the same cars, because you usually get there about the same time. So you already know that if you are within the first 5
minutes of the door being opened you can move through smoothly, but if you are even 1 minute later then the line will stretch back a good block, so you will definitely
be waiting longer. But, that’s okay as most
of your children will pop out anywhere and you can pull back into traffic. You just need to get into the ‘U’, you don’t
need to go all the way up to the front like some of us do.
I get it, Mrs. Inpatient, I’ve been there. There you are watching a girl take her time
getting out of the car. Then she reaches
back in the car to get her backpack.
Then her purse. Then something
her mom hands her. Sometimes a second
kid will magically appear at this point and just then start unloading from the
same car. And you think you are in the clear, but then that sneaky trunk pops
open and you know they are coming around the back to get that crazy trombone
out. Finally, the kids start walking and the car starts moving …. And then it
stops! And the girl turns around because mom has rolled down the window to tell
her something more, and she doesn’t hear what her mom is saying and she has
to come closer. But she only comes 2
steps closer and she still can't hear mom. So she takes two more steps and the process repeats a few times until she is all the way back
at the car and receives this all too important message and can finally get back
on the sidewalk headed for the door. And the whole time you are watching the
clock, thinking: “ohmystars!areyoukiddingme?Iamgoingtobelateforwork.whatiswrongwithyou?can’tyoujustlethergotoschool?don’tyouknowtherearepeoplebehindyou?pleeeeaaasemoveyourcar!finally!ohno.don’tcallherbackforanotherhaveagoodday!fortheloveofpete!urgh.okshe’sgoing.yessssss!she’smovingfinally,thankthelord!” But, you chose the ‘wait’ route so you
wait. Patiently. Without honking, for the love of Pete.
Clueless. You must be
clueless, chickie. You must have noooo
idea what it is like to parent a child with special needs or someone that needs
extra help on occasion. When I am
rocking my schedule in the morning and I am one of the first 5 cars dropping my
munchkins off I will often find myself behind a little car my kids refer to as
‘the wheelchair car’. When this car is
first in line, my kids never complain about having to hop out in the number 2
spot. I have never met this mom, but I
love her. I have spoken to her son on
multiple occasions and he is pure joy rolled into a long lanky package. This mom arrives early, before there are
aides available to help her, and hauls the wheelchair out of the trunk
herself. It’s one that has to be
assembled so it will fit in her vehicle and she puts it together on her own. She gets her son into the chair alone, and
he’s almost as big as she is at this point.
She wheels him in to school herself, breaking the ‘don’t get out of the
car if you aren’t a student rule’, but she does it very early so she isn’t
holding up the longer line that comes later.
Some days her son is doing well enough to use his crutches so she slowly
trails him with the chair in case he’ll need it later in the day, but this
process is not faster than her normal morning, it is much more deliberate and
time consuming. I cheer silently for
this mom, who unashamedly rocks her pajama bottoms in the drop off line, while
she’s getting her kid into school. I
have no idea what her battle has looked like for her son’s life, but I can just
imagine. I think she’s probably thrilled
to go back home and take her time showering and getting ready and doing ALL OF THE
THINGS that need doing while her son IS AT SCHOOL, HALLELUJIAH!!! (Rock on
Sister!!! You are totally winning at
this mom thing, even if you don’t know it!!!)
And Clueless mom –you just have no stinking idea.
Ms. Clueless, you probably would never honk at the
wheelchair car, because that would be rude and politically incorrect and so
obviously wrong. But there are so many
degrees between wheelchair and your typical children that jump out of your car
without a problem every morning. There
are a hundred scenarios that never crossed your mind. It would never occur to you that the van in
front of you is holding not one little boy, but two. The boy you see is just as confused and
as frustrated as you are and you scared him with your honk, because he didn't know what he was doing wrong. He doesn’t
understand why his big brother isn’t getting out of the car today either. You can’t see the boy that’s still with his
mom, begging her to pull forward. You
can’t see the car in front of the van, the big white SUV that always waits for
her daughter to slowly walk all the way to the door, turning to wave at her
mother at least twice, before pulling away.
You don’t see my son slowly falling apart today because he just cannot
do one more thing this week that is flexible or out of his normal routine.
Had I known he was going to have a mini meltdown today, ma’am, I would never
have tried to get him out of my car before we got all the way to the
front. I thought our morning was going
well and he was receptive to a small swing in routine, it’s not something I always ask of him. He is always, always respectful of the
wheelchair car and gets out. Sometimes
he will get out behind the SUV with the little girl. Other than that, we always just wait it out
and get to the front of the line before I open the van. Because it took us forever to get here – to
be a car that kids just get out of. It
was a battle we fought hard to win. You
couldn’t possibly know that there was a time I had to push him in the door of
school every. single. day. You probably
don’t know that we used to have an aide meet us at the car to transition him
inside, every. single. day.
Ms. Clueless, we are doing great this year. As long as we stick to routine, my son gets
out of the car and goes in to school. And every day that is a minor victory for us. I
am not a clingy mom, either, the kids shut my door and give me a little wave
and I am out of that line and back in traffic.
But this little boy has had a rough month. He has had extensive evaluations and some
medical tests he doesn’t understand. He
has a new diagnosis of a medical condition, EOE, that doesn’t make sense to
him. It means he has to take medicine he
does not like to help with a condition that he can’t see. He just found out he has a food allergy causing that condition that
we can’t do anything about because his diet is so limited. He started feeding therapy 2 weeks ago and
every day he is asked to do very hard things that he doesn’t like to do so he
can begin to eat something different than he did as a toddler. It may not be a big deal to you, but he
licked a flour tortilla this week.
That’s a bread and it not only was in his hand (a battle in and of
itself), but he touched it with his tongue!
That was like you trying to do that U-Turn thing in one smooth move … a practically
impossible feat. Tough week. He is done, Clueless, just done. And I didn’t see it today until it was too
late.
As my son broke down today because I broke routine on a day
he couldn’t take it, you honked your horn at us. Which made things worse, because it added to
the stress of my urging him to get out and kids walking by and looking in our
van at a crying little boy. He then
cried harder because he didn’t want to walk into school crying. I had to stop for even longer to help him
breathe and calm down and eventually I had to get out of my car and walk around
and help him out the door. My younger
son waited patiently for his brother so he didn’t have to go inside alone. Eventually we were able to separate and I
could get out of your way.
And I still can’t figure out what your deal was … Clueless,
Inpatient. You gave me an exasperated,
dirty look as I walked around the car to help my son. Your children were already getting out and my
car was not blocking your exit. What was
so crazy important that you couldn’t have a little patience? Or empathy?
Every kid has a rough day. Every
kid has a time they don’t want to go to school or get out of the car or do
something that we consider normal or easy.
Every kid. Even yours. I just want you to know that if I am behind
you in line on that day, I will not honk at you or give you a dirty look or
make you feel ‘less’. I won’t rush you
or push you. And I most certainly won't do anything to cause your child added anxiety or confusion.
This parenting thing is a really rough gig, but I am not the
hero in my own story, it’s Scooter. We
call these kids ‘special needs’ because they need extra help or time, but
truthfully we ask so much more of them than we do of kids that are
‘typical’. My other two kids are
awesome, but I don’t ask them to stretch outside their comfort zone every
single day just to go to school. Those
two don’t have to manage the world with extreme sensory sensitivities, transition
issues, and social struggles. When they
see a look on my face they know exactly what it means. They don’t have to go to therapy 3 days a
week to learn how to eat. Yep, Scooter
needs some extra stuff and time and care, no question, but we ask him to give
way more than he gets. And I’m betting
that he is nowhere near the only kid in that line who is a hero, either. In fact, I know he isn’t. Scooter is a fighter and he's resilient, he came out of school with a smile and a laugh today despite both of us.
Ma’am, I will make you a deal – how about you don’t honk at
anyone in the drop off line? How about
you either let your kids out further back in line if you are in a hurry or you
patiently and quietly wait your turn? I
would love it if you tried to remember that every mom in that line has a
struggle you couldn’t possibly know. If
you can show some empathy and patience, then I will do my very best to not
laugh at you every day when you try to make the U-turn to get into the line and
fail miserably. Every. Single. Time. I don’t get why you have to use both lanes
on both sides of the median to make this turn, and then still have to stop and
put your car in reverse to avoid hitting that fire hydrant. Every time!!! I don’t get it, just like you
totally don’t get my kid and our process.
But, I promise if you leave moms and kids alone in line then I won’t laugh at
your awful driving!
Yours Truly,
The U-Turn Queen
(Because I've earned it, Thank You)
