Max

A few weeks into Max starting his new school, I braved it and told him that he could come home by himself after school.  Now, I’d already been through this scene when he was in 3rd grade.  He would want to go to school by himself or with a friend and I would have to talk myself down off a ledge because, since my babies were little, my worst fear has been that one of my children would get stolen by a creeper.  Soooo, I’d made it this far without any of them disappearing and wanted to keep it that way.  But I reminded myself I couldn’t do this forever, so at the brave and fearless age of 8, Max would walk or ride the one mile to school, but not without many warnings and reminders about all the weirdos out there, making a full stop at the intersection of College and Spring, and staying close to other kids.  It wasn’t long before he was saying all the instructions one step ahead of me.  With a roll of the eyes he would say, “I know, I know, stay on the sidewalk, don’t ride on the street.  Stop all the way when I get to College, don’t stop for anything and go straight to school.”  Not bad...  Should I have him call me when he gets there?  

The real worries came after school.  I’d relaxed knowing he was safe inside the school walls all day, but now he had to make the trek home.  For some reason, I felt like the weirdos were out more at 3:30 p.m. than at 8:30 a.m., or that he’d forget the way home, even though it was more or less a straight shot.  Max was confident all along, and I followed suit a couple months into the school year... just in time for Max to realize that it was much better to be dropped off at school.

  

This year Max’s school is a mere .4 miles from our home, says google maps.  However, we live near an insane roundabout with 6 roads coming off of it.  It is, apparently, one of the busiest roundabouts in the city.  There are crosswalks to help kids get to school, which makes the whole thing safer and less scary.  (The city just recently put these in.  Until then, kids were still getting themselves to school, it was just more dangerous).  

Max thinks he’s on a BMX trail on the way to school and seems to enjoy scaring people with his fake out moves.  Mind you, on these narrow sidewalks, we are sometimes inches from the cars and double decker buses.  Also, we haven’t really mastered the direction of walking/riding on the sidewalks since it is backwards from what we are used to.  No-one fully knows what to do.  It’s humorous to watch really, unless you almost wreck into someone (which I've done 3 times) and then it isn't so funny.  Have you ever heard someone curse you in a British accent?  The beauty of their accent fades for just a minute.  

So, the whole point of this story was that on this particular day, Max was going to get himself home after school.  This time, I wasn’t so worried about the boogie man, but the mad traffic.  So, I mentally gave Max 15 minutes to get home after school let out.  He was supposed to be home by 3:25.  At 3:26 I was out the door.  Workout pants, tank top and boots (nearest shoes to the door).  I went down Five Mile Drive to the roundabout.  No Max.  Down Sunderland and back up to the roundabout.  No Max.  Down the Woodstock Road almost to First Turn where his school is before I found him.  There was Max, riding one handed, eating an apple and driving up and down the grassy hill next to the sidewalk.  Our eyes met.  I could see the 'OH NO' go through his little head.  “What?” he said.  We chatted (I lit into him).  He said “Mom, I was just playing with my friends.”  Suddenly, I was relieved.  Both that he was okay and that he had friends.  Later he told me, “mom, if I’m ever late coming home from school again, I’ll be with my friends.  I won’t be dead.”  Ah, what a relief.  


Friends cannot be replaced.  But new ones can be made.  Though things are never quite the same, you find new things to talk about and to do together.  A few days after the whole bike incident, I found Max playing in the (1800's) church graveyard across from his school with a couple friends.  If I would have told him 3 months ago that he'd be doing that for fun, he would've said, 'yeah, right.'  But here he is....

St. Peter's Church with the beautiful graveyard in the back  

Max checking out Will's skateboard

Max enjoys school at Wolvercote Primary.  He even gets ro ride a coach bus to the local swimming pool every Friday for swim class.  Required: speedo and swimcap!  As you can imagine, that was a huge deal in the beginning, but he is now used to it and doesn't even think about it.  

He has really enjoyed studying British life during WWII.  He learned lots of wartime songs and isn't shy about singing them loudly in the streets and screaming "the Germans are coming! the Germans are coming!"  Year 5 (fourth grade) took a trip to a museum to learn more about life during the war.  Upon arrival at the museum, the children were rushed into an air raid shelter.   They each had to dress up as an evacuee and some even packed a ration lunch.  All of this inspired Max to go to the park near our house and build a bomb shelter (out of a sheet) and eat his wartime ration (leftover pizza).

Dressing as an evacuee

Make-shift bomb shelter, complete with spit-wad gun

Max does not yet love school lunches with things like "Toad in the Hole" as a regular on the menu, but enjoys "Fish Fridays" and especially Peanut Butter sandwiches that is being rationed with PB sent from the States.  He is also enjoying playing football (soccer) for the Yarnton (that's 'Yawn-ton') Blues every Tuesday and Saturday.  It's cute hearing him say "well done mate" and "come on chaps", right along with every one else. The only downside to playing football here (for me anyway) is that they play year-round. The only thing they cancel a game for is an iced-over field.  The other thing is all the parents are soooo quiet during the games and no one brings chairs to sit in even though they play 2 games back to back on Saturdays. I don't mean to be a baby, but, come on now.  Oh well, Max loves it and that's what counts.  He loves being a part of the team and he needs that physical energy release so Jeff and I don't have to wrestle him on these hard wood floors every night.

Max is in blue and the one with a lot of hair by the goalie

This last picture is one of my favorites of Max.  It was taken at the airport in Columbus as we were waiting to board.  I can only imagine what was going through this boy's head as he stared out at the huge plane getting ready to take us across the ocean.  All along the way, he has been strong... more than willing and able to just be himself, bringing stability to our whole family,  and brave... unafraid to try new things, and real...shedding tears when it's the only thing that fits the hard place of being far from everything you love.  Mostly, Max has just been a joy to have around, and has been the biggest help in seeing our new world through a child's eyes.