When I phoned to make sure he arrived back safely only to get the answering machine, I dropped everything and made a beeline for the preschool. It was justifiable behavior (or so I convinced myself). At a wee 4 years old and my oldest child, I was just being a diligent mother. Yeah right, lady.
As time went on and field trips became a more regular part of Boy Wonder’s elementary career, I assumed my field trip anxiety would wane a little with each passing year. It makes sense that it would. After all, my son is now 9 years old, he knows his address and phone number, and is well-practiced in the art of not getting lost. All things considered, I shouldn’t be worried about anything more than a sunburn at this point, right?
This week Boy Wonder, along with the entire 4th grade class took a trip to an amusement park while I remained debilitated by the memory of the day he went missing. While my kid was busy screaming his lungs out and grinning until his face hurt, I kept my phone on high alert and deepened my brow line.
When his bus returned at precisely 2:20pm, I was finally able to take my first real breath of the day. What I find perhaps harder than feeling this way is trying to hide it. As Boy Wonder matures, I’ll be forced to loosen my grip until I’m no longer holding on. And while I’m keenly aware that I can’t protect him from everything, I’ve yet to find a way healthier way to try.
How do you feel about school field trips?
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