Driver's Ed -- A Time for Growing Independence

I spent an hour and 20 minutes driving around town tonight with my son who is poised to take his driving test on Friday.  This has been a long, l-o-n-g process and it is with mixed feelings that I will wait for the next 36 hours until my first-born is able to say, "Mom -- can I take your car?"

It has been several months since that first beautiful Saturday afternoon last fall when we were together in the car, driving down Lansdale Avenue in front of the high school, when I non-chalantly said, "Wanna take a shot at driving?"  He looked at me like I was some kind of alien. I could hear it in his head as if he spoke the words out loud:  

"Mom? Asking if I want to DRIVE?"

OF COURSE I knew he wanted to drive.  All of his friends were either in the final stages of getting their licenses or already had been driving for awhile. But the mere fact that he was being presented with the opportunity to actually do it, I think it threw him for a loop.

He had always been a late-bloomer of sorts.  Kindof needed extra time -- for lots of things.  And with his pretty hectic extra-curricular commitments (clubs, band, sports and, God forbid, HOMEWORK) he really had never had the time to commit to an all-out driver's ed course until now. 

So, here we were -- the beginning of his senior year on this beautiful day, I figured it would be kindof good to give him a chance.

This would be the first of several nail-biting, grabbing-the-door-handle, jamming-my-foot-into-the-imaginary-brake-pedal-on-the-floor rides of my life.  And with good reason.  One of the first times we went out on the 'real' road, it was a road we've traveled a thousand times. A million times.  As we approached a very mild curve to the approaching light, he accidently (but soundly) went right over the curb (on my side, I might add).

MOVE TO THE LEFT! THE LEFT!

After a few expletives with my hands tightly clenched on either side of my seat, he quickly re-gained control, made the turn, and I guess as they say, the rest is history.

It has been a difficult process for me, both as a driver and as a mother.  I've been tough on my children their whole lives (Did you do your homework yet? Oh really? Let me see it....).  And I may have been even tougher as a mentor to a not-yet-licensed driver (What's the speed limit on this street? And, how fast are YOU going? Do you know what a COMPLETE stop is!).  In fact, even as late as last week when I took him out for a spin I was a nervous wreck.

It seems, however, that it all has seemed to 'click' within the last week or so.  Tonight as I drove with him, he seemed so much better on the road.  Much more confident.  Much more ready to 'go for it.' And, to be honest, I was completely comfortable and relaxed with him behind the wheel.  The only thing he wanted to do some last minute practice on was the nemesis of all expectant-drivers-test takers: parallel parking.

(Quite frankly, I wonder how critical parallel parking really is anyway -- my own sister STILL cannot do it and she's been driving for almost 30 years). 

All in all, he is ready.  And I am ready.  And, to be honest, it is out of our hands.  Now it is up to the State of Connecticut to decide.  Say a prayer .....

Introductions ....

Life in middle America.  A world where people go to work every day ... at a job they either love ... or don't.  A place where people take care of their kids, make dinner, do laundry, and go grocery shopping.  A place where we pay the bills, fill the tank, vacuum the rug and clean the house.  And perhaps the best part -- a place where we laugh, and play, and love.

I came into this world with nothing and I suppose I'll go out that way, as well.  My father always used to tell us kids "No one owes you a thing in this life.  You need to make your life.  Go out and get it."

A lifetime of lessons in a few short words.

I know I'll never win the lottery.  I know I'll never be living the life of the rich and famous. But I do know what I have. And I do know who I am.  I'll take that ... and wherever that takes me ... for now.

The view from my place in middle America should provide some moments of laughter, tears, anger, and truth.  I hope you enjoy the ride.