quick clicks

twins today articles

twins today q&a

community & groups

research baby names

prepare a birth plan

content channels

ip channel rss feeds

read birth stories

read parenting stories

recommended books

e-newsletters

safety recalls

ip diaries

ip store

mom of the month

dad of the month

editor's letter

letters to the editor

On the Bus

By Johanna Wald

For me, this transformation triggered ambivalent emotions. On the one hand, I felt relieved and grateful that my son was successfully navigating the tricky terrain of school adjustment. Yet, I also came to recognize that this new dynamic would only intensify in the years ahead. His world now revolved around a community to which I was peripheral at best. If I liked to think that I provided a trampoline from which he could hurl into his life, I also understood that from here on in the allure would be more in the forward motion and less in the bounce.

Next week, this process starts for my daughter Renee. I predict she will be weepy and will cling to me as the bus pulls up. Hopefully, she will spot her friend MacKenzie through a window, and that will give her courage to take the step that places her beyond my reach. When the bus closes its doors and pulls away, an irrevocable transition -- gradual, but monumental nonetheless -- begins to take place.

For the mother as well as the child. I will engage in this ritual with the knowledge that it will not be repeated again. Renee is my last, not my first, and that recognition may spark its own series of emotional tremors. Next week, I officially become the mother of two "school-aged children." For once, I intend to take a few moments to honor this occasion in all of its ambivalent glory. I plan to linger, bathe and wallow in my sadness, awe and pride for a few moments before I brush away the tears and drive to work.

Sometimes a bus ride isn't just a bus ride.