I have had somewhere in the ballpark of 827 conversations this week with Jack’s bus driver, bus aide, principal, teacher, and school nurse. We’ve talked meds, seat belts, meltdowns, extreme hunger, sensory integration, menacing the bus dashboard, and rocky transitions.
Back to school hurts. But it’s a good hurt.
Jack had a major behavior incident of whacking people and things while the bus was parked in front of the school yesterday. One of the solutions is to have him wear a seatbelt, which is actually more of a harness. This morning, the bus driver and I tried to cajole Jack into putting on the harness. Jack was like, “Duh. No.” Nonverbal people are good at slapping things out of your hands if they are not on board with your schemes.
Enter Dutch. He came outside and got Jack off the bus, which made Jack antsy, because BUS! And school! And routines, people! Jeff told Jack that if he wanted to get on the bus, he had to first put on the harness.
Jack put on the harness.
Jack listens to Jeff better than me, which is not fair and probably has something to do with the fact that Jack knows he can win physical skirmishes with me, but not so with dad. Sometimes I feel like Jeff and I need to trade places, Freaky Friday-style, because the children like him better. And he outweighs Jack by more than I do, a notable advantage.
Anyway, the bus drove away, and Jack was a peach both going and coming from school today. Jeff’s brilliant plan of making the bus ride conditional upon the wearing of the harness worked.
Still, I kind of want to forward my calls from the school to Ira Glass in Chicago. Let him field the phone calls and solve the disasters and turn all of it into a podcast episode of This American Life, which I will listen to with detached interest, unless the story becomes uncomfortable. Then I will turn it off.
I’m kidding. In real life, I never turn off the fake podcast of my son’s disasters and assaults. It stays on, all the way to the end.