Here's today's series of events.
1. If you read previous entries, you know that I have been feeling sad about having to keep to Max's routine. I was taking him to daycare, letting him ride the bus to summer school... all to keep him in that routine.
2. Today he toddled off to daycare. All arrangements had been made. He had a change of clothes, Pull-Ups, wipes, and breakfast money.
3. I went about my morning, took Ignatius to Kids' Feast, did some shopping, got rained on, had lunch with my husband. Not a bad Monday morning.
4. I was sitting and crafting at home. No one around. The peace that comes from clear thinking.
5. At 1:05, my phone rings. It's the daycare. Max was supposed to be back at 12:30. Another bus dropped children off. They were contacting the transportation department at the school district. They wanted me to know.
Yes... you may pause to gasp...
So my three-year-old child with communication difficulties is "missing?" I felt as if someone was pulling out my lungs through my belly button.
6. I call the transportation department. No answer.
7. I call the school where summer school was held. No answer. (Of course not. It's been over for almost an hour.)
8. I call the transportation department again. With calmness only from God, the words come out of my mouth, "My name is JoLynn Plato, and I am trying to locate my three-year-old son, Max. He has autism and he was not returned to his day care yet from summer school."
9. I am on hold. Panicking.
10. Call waiting. The day care. They got in touch with someone... finally... who found the bus, which had broken down (including its radio).
11. Back to transportation department. I finally get off of hold. I explain that the daycare has found the bus (before the woman answering the phone knows it, apparently).
12. I call Scott, hysterical. He calls the transportation department to say all that I was unable to say as I was in some odd shock. (Me... speechless... hard to wrap the brain around)
13. Ten years have been shaved off my life.
There's so much more that could be said, but I think anyone reading this is probably already thinking exactly what has been floating in my head for the last 7 hours.
So he gets an even bigger hug and kiss before bed tonight.
1 comment:
So, let me get this straight . . . the bus driver of the bus that broke down had no way of contacting the transportation department? Hello, cell phone? How did the kids who got dropped off get to the daycare? Did they walk? What is a person who's transporting three-year-old's doing while the bus is broken down? Counting windmills on the side of the road? Didn't he/she call for help to the very transportation department that had no clue??? The mind reels at the possibilities. . . Glad that it shaved 10 years off; you were too age-cocky as it was!
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