Kids We Love: Mabel’s First Fieldtrip

When I arrived at Buddings on that fateful Wednesday afternoon, the kids who met me at the gate were full of questions and enthusiasm. I was covering the 3 ‘o clock power hour, since Sarah and the Munsch Club were fieldtripping to the airport that afternoon.

I had seen the email from Mabel’s mom, asking if little Mabel was big enough for a Big Kids Club trip, as well as Sarah’s warm welcome! 

So what was she doing at daycare?

“Mabeline, how come you’re not on the fieldtrip?”

Isabel filled me in, that at the moment of truth, Mabel had been scared of the bus, and that the kids had left without her. 

“Scared of the bus?” 

She nodded. 

“But the bus isn’t scary,” I told her. “The bus is for big adventures.” 

Mabel is just two, but she’s articulate and imaginative, and it didn’t surprise me that she had worked herself into a fear frenzy. The first fieldtrip can have that effect on people, especially if parents are also concerned. 

But Mabel was definitely big enough for fieldtrips! Since Isa, Christa, and I had nine kidlets to contend with, I had an idea.

“We need to get some crickets for the gecko and frogs,” I told the teachers. “Since Mabel is signed up for a fieldtrip, and her emergency card and snacks are ready to go, maybe she could come with me?”

The teachers agreed, so it was all up to Mabel.

“Do you want to try a mini-fieldtrip, with Talia, to see if you like the bus?” I asked her. And she did!

Holding her hand as we walked to the bus stop, Mabel was pretty quiet, but whenever I asked her about the sights, she was quick to describe what she saw, and I could tell she was taking it all in. 

At the pet store, she watched the birds in cages, and played follow-the-finger with the tetras. We saw hamsters and mice, and a friendly bearded dragon who seemed to want to come home with us. But we weren’t sure our gecko would welcome a roommate. She spoke to the ladies at the store, politely (as always), but little.

On the way back, we walked passed a rocket ship sculpture, and we took a picture of our reflections in puddles. We got to the bus stop just as it pulled up. 

“Hold on,” I told her, as we approached Broadway. “This is where we turn.” 

Obediently, Mabel tightened her grip on the window sill. 

As we rounded the corner, she released her hold. Her little legs barely reached the end of the seat, but she gave them a little kick, whispering, to herself.

“I’m not in the stroller…” she said, kicking her feet again. 

It was a realization for her, and the wonder in her voice made me laugh. 

“That’s right, my love,” I told her. “You’re free!”

I knew I had some big news for her mom…