Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Home Late Again = Bad Day

It was after 4:30 and Max still hadn't arrived home. When his new Occupational therapist called asking why we didn't come to our for a 4pm appointment. I knew it was time for me to call school bus department. Max's bus is suppose to drop him off at 3:30. My stomach began to tighten up with thoughts that Max could of been in a accident or got on the wrong bus, but when I heard the dispatcher on the other end of the phone line and found out that Max had a substitute driver and the driver didn't know the route. I was able to take a sigh of relief.
He had speech at five o'clock. My mind went in several direction as I felt my frustation boiling in me, wondering how I was going to make it to his appointment on time.

I waited and waited at our front door for him to arrive after I got off the phone with the dispatcher. Calmness came over me when I noticed a shade of the bus Shadow through the window.

Poor Max finally arrived home at 4:45. I quickly opened up the door to greet Max hoping he would be willing to leave for therapy. Max usually likes to come home, eat a snack and rest, but it wasn't possible.

I observed Max has he carried his viola case strap over his shoulder and his back pack dragging behind him. His eyes were drawn up and his voice was projecting the same couple of sentences over and over.

Max glared at the light fixture above our entry way. "Mom they need to fire the bus driver. If he doesn't have a college degree he shouldn't be driving the bus. Mom...he made me last to come home, he dropped everyone and left me last. Call the school mom and tell them to fire the two workers on the bus. I knew the helper, but the bus driver wasn't good mom."

I slipped Max's viola case strap off his shoulder while trying to get him to listen to my directions, but it wasn't possible. It was difficult to get him to focus on anything. I had to physically guide him out to the car as he continue to share his thoughts about the substitute  bus driver. "MOM...do you hear me? They need to tell those workers never to come back Mom, can they put me on another bus? They have to, I can't always be last home."

"I heard you and you need to understand they didn't know the  bus route."

Max looked at me with a firm belief he knew the answer. "Then they need to go to college and learn the route."

Speech theapry was not as productive with him so upset over getting home late and being last on the bus.

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