As September rolls around, my children are ready to take on the adventure of walking to school independently. They’re at that age (or so I believe). I’ve drilled into them the importance of looking both ways before crossing the street, even if I’ve yet to witness them applying that lesson in real life. Plus, the school is so close I feel like I could almost throw a rock from my front porch and hit it, so I’m fairly confident they’ll manage just fine.
Last year, we tried a test run that started off well, but then I got a call from my son’s teacher, letting me know that he was acting a bit too wild on the way to school. So, with a heavy heart, I had to put an end to that little experiment.
However, this is a fresh year, and I’m optimistic about the potential for new beginnings. He’s a few months older and, I hope, a bit more mature. He’ll be heading into second grade while his sister gears up for fourth. If they can’t walk to school by themselves now, when will they? I have no intention of driving them back and forth to school until they’re old enough to drive themselves. Sure, many parents do, but I’ve always found that a bit perplexing.
When I chose to move to my town years ago, one of the main attractions was its walkability. Unlike the sprawling suburb where I grew up, this town allowed residents to stroll to the park, schools, and even downtown. At that time, my husband and I managed with just one car, which was all we needed with both of us commuting to the city.
Now, we’re a two-car, two-kid family, but I’m determined to stop driving them places they can easily walk to as soon as they’re ready. Up until now, I’ve been the one rushing them the few blocks to school, waiting impatiently for the morning bell, and then scurrying back home only to repeat the process in a mere six hours. That’s a whopping 1,440 trips, and truthfully, I’ve dreaded every single one. It’s not that I’m particularly lazy—I actually enjoy walking—but it’s such a time drain. If I didn’t have to shepherd them, I could reclaim at least 45 minutes of my day, if not more.
I also dislike the morning routine because it adds extra work to my plate. I can’t bear the thought of facing the world without my hair and makeup done, only to return home to shower and start all over again. But I do it. I insist on maintaining the illusion of grace and competence in front of others.
My frustration with this twice-daily ritual even led me to consider moving to a different town based solely on their school bus system and the amount of time my children would spend on it. But that wasn’t enough to sway my husband, so I kept convincing myself that I’d be walking them to school indefinitely.
Then, it dawned on me: why can’t they walk on their own? I had completely overlooked the fact that kids grow up. This year is the year to give it another shot. I’m fairly certain they won’t meet their doom crossing the one neighborhood street without a crossing guard. It’s a risk I’m willing to take.
Now, the pressing question is, when can they be latchkey kids? If you’re interested in more about parenting challenges, be sure to check out this related post for some great insights. And if you’re considering other ways to support your family planning journey, this resource can be a great option for at-home insemination kits. For those pondering fertility treatments, this link offers excellent guidance.
In summary, as my kids prepare to walk to school independently, I’m excited for this new chapter. This year marks a shift in our routine, and I’m hopeful that they’ll thrive in this newfound freedom while I reclaim some of my precious time.
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