Well today I gave up on school pick up. Yep I’m not volunteering for that again. I’ve tried 100 different ways to manage that middle child of mine with varying levels of success, but he keeps changing and what works one day does not always work the next.

So I parked the car and got out the pram, baby and then Beau jumped out and ran up on to the pavement and straight into the café across the walkway and into the staff area in the back. Argh.

I retrieve a non-respondent child by scooping him up and carrying him out apologizing to the staff. I have words with Beau and then turn my back to retrieve my bag from the car only to repeat the process. This time he has ran further into the staff area and is banging on a fish tank and loudly protests when I physically remove him.

I’m deep breathing to control the anger at the direct disobedience and start walking AWAY from the café quickly. Every 3 steps Beau steps on the pram brakes and causes the left hand side to come to a skidding halt and the baby to jerk forward. Blood pressure rising.

Now at the school Beau decides to go on a kicking frenzy. The school hall is packed with students coming out of class rooms, parents and teachers. He kicks a classroom door so it makes such a loud bang everyone gets a fright and turns around, he kicks an unsuspecting school child, a bag and the front wheel of a pram going in the other direction…. more apologies.

Before I can grab him he is all of a sudden up the wall! Perching like spider man on the top of the bag hooks defying physics and gravity. I get the giggles, he looks hysterical, he is wearing slipper socks on his hands and feet (they are fluffy and soft) which are brightly coloured and stripped and he is just so out of place poised up the wall while everyone is busy around him. Deep breathing. I extract him (good thing he weighs nothing) and return him to the ground.

Before I can catch him he is in Noah’s class room tipping out the boxes of readers, the books scoot all over the floor… Noah is trying to show me his work and as I ignore all the books on the ground and spare a glance at Noah’s school work I hear a cry from another student as Beau is hanging from the 3D shape made out of straws displayed in the classroom (another child’s prized handiwork). Intervention- I grab Beau and swing him up on my back and leave the pram for Noah to push as I beeline to get out of there. He is wrapped to be on my back and held tightly and seems to settle until I realize he has managed to kick another child from his new height on my back- I suddenly feel overwhelmed at the scenario, and my inability to control my child. I fight back the tears and get out of the corridor and welcome the freezing breeze outside.

As I carefully consider my spoken words, I choose not to spout out angry hurtful language and ask for some divine intervention. As Beau settles down when the audio and visual stimuli dissipate the thought pops in my head- I think Noah is old enough to do the pick up where he waits near the designated car park area and we all stay in the car. It’s time. All of a sudden the need to entrust the older child with some more responsibility is necessary right now, and with that new responsibility comes a sliver of hope for the school pick up tomorrow and each day after that.