This past week has found me spending every spare moment driving round and round, backwards and forwards, in and out, at the high school parking lot. My youngest daughter got her driving permit last week and has been itching for time behind the wheel. Not yet ready for the open road, we’re still in practice mode. That’s where I’ve been, y’all. Sitting in the passenger seat. In a parking lot.
My son got his license to drive a decade ago. My oldest daughter has been zoom-zooming for six years. Now my youngest has reached that milestone and I don’t know whether to be thrilled that my days of playing taxi will be over in a year, or sad that this phase of my life is nearing an end.
I’ve done my time in the driver’s seat, no doubt about it. I, like most moms, have spent countless hours schlepping the young ‘uns to and fro and, like most moms, I have done my share of grumbling about it. The truth is, though, that there is a certain control we maintain when we’re in the driver’s seat; and there is a certain control we relinquish when we toss the keys to junior (or juniorette) and say, “Be home by 11:00.” I’ve successfully done that tossing the keys thing (literally and figuratively) twice. This third time will be bittersweet, as it will be my last.
The benefit, I guess, is that I will be back in the driver’s seat. For now, though, I’m content to buckle up next to my driver-in-training. The view from the passenger side is pretty sweet, too.
Til next time,