Like millions of other parents around the world, our lives, are at times consumed, by whichever milestones our children are approaching or rites of passage they are attempting. Each one feels like a journey all its own…full of trials, tribulations, successes, failures, sweat, blood, and tears. Once complete, there seems hardly enough time to celebrate and exhale before the next challenge knocks at the door.
Our current situation finds us in the throes of driver’s training. We’ve endured the classroom and instructor hours, the repetitive parking practice, and our vehicles now bear the warning stickers for all to see. It’s all about the experience now. The more he drives, the more comfortable he will be. Not sure the same applies to my comfort level, but I’m trying.
As soon as he was given permission to drive with parental supervision, he wanted to drive the 2.5 miles home from class. Before handing him the keys, I found myself trying to figure a way to get home that would only require right-hand turns. Okay, got it. Let’s roll.
He navigated the first right-hand turn a little slow and a little wide, but all-in-all, not awful. The next right turn was at a light. He stopped a little hard, got a bit nervous turning into a lane next to on-coming traffic, but was successful. His third right turn was at a T-stop. Traffic coming from our right and left does not stop. He watched and waited until ALL traffic cleared. And then he waited some more. And more. Thankfully there wasn’t anyone behind us.
When he finally decided to make the turn, there was a car coming from our left. He VERY slowly turned and neglected to press the accelerator. AT. ALL. We were CRAWLING. I toldl him to accelerate. He panicked and pushed the gas without straightening the wheel. We went up and over the curb, on to the sidewalk, and into the front yard of the home on the corner. STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! O.M.G.
We came to a stop on an angle, at the top of a hill. The boy was pale and shaking. I was shockingly calm (Thank you, Jesus!). “It’s okay. We’re okay. The car’s okay. Just do me a favor and get out of the car.” He opened the door and as he walked around the back of the car, he tore off the bumper sticker he was so proud of just moments before.
I got in the driver’s seat as he slumped in the passenger seat. And as I buckled my seat-belt, one of our town’s finest drove by in a patrol car. He slowed down, rolled down his window, and said, “Did you just run off the road?” To which I replied, “Yes, officer. Sorry about that. Brand new driver. He panicked and over-corrected, but we’re fine. We’ll be going now.” He just shook his head and went about his business.
Relieved and holding in my own emotion, I gently steered us back onto the road and glanced at the young man turned away from me in the front seat. When did he get so big? How did this happen? Where’s my baby boy? How do I best “mom” him in this moment?
His shoulders were heaving as he tried to hide his sobbing and be the tough guy he thought I expected him to be. “That was scary, huh?” A subtle nod. “You okay?” A shoulder shrug. “Well, at least we got it out of the way early!” A sideways look of disbelief, mouth agape. “Look, I know you’re scared. But the best thing to do is get back behind the wheel. So we’re heading to the parking lot for more practice. You can DO this.”
And he did. We practiced for an hour. Nice and slow. No other cars. No pressure. Just the two of us.
That was our Day #1. We’ve had more practice since then and he IS getting better. He can even find humor in what happened that first day, and in my apprehension whenever he’s behind the wheel. “Okay, Mom. Assume the position. You know…the one where you have both your hands on the dashboard?” Oops. Sorry son. Good thing you can’t see my right foot slamming the floor boards!
It’s a control thing with me. And maybe a trust thing, too. I drive alongside all kinds of crazy drivers every day; distracted by any number of things, or just plain too hurried or self-absorbed to consider anyone else’s safety. Don’t get me started. Can’t I just wrap him in some sort of bubble and shield him from all the dangerous/evil/stupid/ignorant people on this planet? Where’s my super power of ultimate protection when I need it?
At a minimum, I think parents of new drivers should be lent cars like the instructors use. Give me one of those vehicles with pedals and a steering wheel on the passenger side, please. And, while you’re at it, make sure every inch of the interior is covered in air bags. Yep. That would be a good start. I mean COME ON, people! In this day and age of technological advancements, can’t we make this process fool-proof?
He’s cautious. He’s observant. He’s conscientious. He’ll be fine. God-willing. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t massively missing the days of teaching him how to tie his shoes.
Like every stage in life and parenting, I know “this too shall pass.” And until it does, please be patient while he learns and please pray for me as I keep my hands off the dash and my feet away from the invisible brake pedal.