It was four years ago when son #1 received his driver’s permit. Four long years. When you are blessed to have children close in age, all of the milestones come fast and furious. When one starts to walk, the other one is rolling over (yes, they are that close), one starts to talk and the other one is toilet training… it is all very exciting and since they all happened before the smartphone came out, there were lots of trips to CVS to develop pictures of all the exciting things happening in my little world. Which is a good thing because now I have all of these pictures on my phone and I don’t quite know what to do with them.
But then your oldest starts to drive and all of the other stuff falls to the side of the road, pun intended. “What’s that? You learned to ride a bike? Sorry, your brother is taking a driving lesson.” “You built an addition to the house? I will look later, your brother is parallel parking…” Time stops and all you can do is think about the fact that your child is driving a car. On the highway. Possibly without you. With the radio really loud like you used to when you first learned to drive. And he isn’t surrounded by an “anon hakavod” (look at me with the Hebrew terminology courtesy of son #3, who is sitting next to me). The whole thing is nauseating.
The first time I had the pleasure of driving with son #1 was a sunny day in October. We were going to drive to TABC because I figured he should learn how to get there if he passed his road test and I let him borrow my car. And off we went. If any of you were driving that day in the same direction, you might remember the line of 40 cars driving behind a minivan that was going four miles an hour over the State Street bridge with a crazy lady yelling, “Slow down, slow down!” It was not a pretty picture. With every honk I would convince poor son #1 that no one was in a rush and that he should take his time. I, on the other hand, was holding on to handles on the ceiling of the car that weren’t even there and was waiting for the car to drive off the State Street bridge.
We made it to TABC, he got his license and four years later, I still hold my breath until I know he is where he is going safely. But right after he got his license, son #2 started to drive. I was a little better with him. I only shut one eye when I thought we were going to knock off someone’s sideview mirror instead of both eyes. When we went on the highway for the first time, I pretended we were in Disneyland on a ride…and I tried my best to stop from giving him the “watch out” twitch. For those of you who don’t have kids that drive, the “watch out” twitch is what you scream 8000 times while driving with your child, even if he is no where near hitting anything. All of your depth perception disappears because the anxiety overtakes you. And your child starts to jump in his seat randomly, even if you didn’t yell anything. Try to avoid this. Having a shot of tequila can help…so I have heard.
And now, son #3 has started driving. Ladies and gentleman, I am proud to say that I have it down to a science. I know exactly what pharmaceuticals to take and exactly how far in advance to take them to prevent any twitches. I am calm and cool. I don’t yell or scream. It is a whole new me. My baby is learning to drive. He is no longer driving his Little Tikes Coupe. The last of the big milestones is almost complete. When oh when did this happen? Enjoy the ride…that little baby that you are holding in your arms that is keeping you up all night? Before you know it, he will be keeping you up all night because he is 18 years old and can drive all night if he wants…don’t say I didn’t warn you!
Banji Ganchrow is looking forward to her boys driving to the nursing home to visit her and, hopefully, bring her snacks. She dreams big, folks, she dreams big…
By Banji Latkin Ganchrow
