My Baby’s Behind the Wheel
Some life changes happen so slowly you barely notice them. Like when you start to realize that your dog has gotten old and might not live much longer, though you can’t begin to imagine your home without him. That was me not so long ago.
Other changes literally happen overnight and you find yourself completely blindsided by the unexpected and messy emotions they bring, even when you knew the change was coming. That’s me today.
My 16 year old son got his driver’s license yesterday.
My husband and I have been ecstatic about this prospect for some time. So much so that we bought our son a car for his birthday. We talked endlessly about how much easier life was going to be. No more shuffling work and other obligations to run all over town getting both our kids to school, activities, appointments, and friends’ houses. Freedom. That’s what I expected it to feel like, delicious freedom.
But this morning, when my 16 year old son left to take his little brother to school, then pick up a schoolmate for carpool (both of which would have been our responsibility just the day before), I felt kind of sad. In fact, I felt a little sad all day. It’s now 4:34 in the afternoon and I don’t know when he’ll be home. It’s also starting to sink in that I often won’t know when he’ll be home from now on. Somehow, it feels like loss, not the freedom I anticipated.
I don’t mean to be dramatic about this. I know all parents go through it at some point, and it’s not a tragedy. I’m thankful that my kids are healthy and doing well. I’m also very happy that my son seems to be a responsible driver, having spent many hours at the wheel, convincing me that he’s reasonably safe out there. But this whole situation makes me wonder if we don’t have kids, at least in part, so that we feel less alone in life. I’m pondering the possibility that we bring these dependent little creatures into the world because it feels so good to be needed and to have company you can always count on. And when that changes, when you’re suddenly not necessary for the things you were so in demand for the day before, when you’re no longer your child’s favorite companion, not even anywhere near the top of the list, it can make you question who you are in the world.
I was in a meeting yesterday where someone said, “the most important quality for success in life is the ability to adapt to change.” I nodded half-heartedly, having heard the platitude a million times before. But just one day later, I’m feeling the weight of that reality and hoping I’ll be able to rise to the challenge a little better tomorrow. I’m also hoping my son will come home for dinner tonight.
* A happy update: Not only is my 16 year old son now home at 5:00 p.m., but he brought a friend with him and they’re in his room playing with Legos! All feels right with the world again and I’m wondering if maybe he wasn’t ready for things to change quite so much so quickly either. Legos, really?
Thanks for reading.
Patricia
10 Comments
By the way, if you saw an earlier version of this post, I had forgotten to delete a bunch of rambling beginnings of new posts when I pasted this post. Sorry about that! Please disregard!!!
P- You nailed it. Exciting, a little sad, momentous and an opportunity for contemplation about deep issues. And, then! Voila! Adaptation!
And within the hour…Legos again. Wonderful capture of this universal right of passage. (At least here in CA where getting a car at 16 seems pretty mandatory.)
Thank you, Corie! I know you’ve been through it too and I’m relieved to hear what I wrote didn’t sound too crazy. 🙂
Awww, love the Legos! And you did nail it. It’s hard not to be sad when we feel as if we’re no longer needed by our kids, except for as an ATM. LOL. I went to my son’s ROTC awards ceremony the other night, and a senior who is off to start his new life gave a very touching speech, in which he devoted much of it to thanking his parents for all the support they had given him for the past four years. He said, “I know at times you must have felt like I’d forgotten you…” It really struck a nerve because that’s how I feel about my son right now, like he’s forgotten us, and it smarts.
We just have to remind ourselves that it’s all part of them becoming adults, and I guess we should be relieved when they don’t need us as much. 🙂
Thanks so much, Shelly! I know you went through the same exact thing not long ago and it’s so nice to have a good friend who’s at the same stage of parenting! How sweet that the senior thanked his parents (and good for your son to have heard!). I know the smart you’re talking about and you are absolutely right that we have to remember that’s it’s a natural part of the process of growing up, but we’ll always be their moms, and no one can take that away!
Legos. Oh, thank goodness.
I think we’re leading parallel lives, Patricia. My daughter gets her driver’s license 36 days from now. Thirty-six! I’m going crazy. Thinking about tracking devices on the car, air-bagging the bumpers, the tires, the roof, the floor mats. Worried she’ll get lost in a bad part of town, need gas, have no money with her and her cell phone battery will be dead. Please tell me it’ll all be okay . . . ‘Cuz Momma’s really worried!
Thanks for linking this post to the Hump Day Blog Hop. I really needed to read it right about now! 🙂
I don’t have children myself but I’m very close to my nieces and nephews. When the oldest began driving we were all so glad that he drove (in my mother’s words) like a ‘little old man.’ 🙂
Sweet post, Patricia! I have a few years to think about my kids driving. Thank goodness! My two year old will be going into a big girl’s bed soon. They grow up so fast.
Driving’s a really big one, bigger even than walking I think. For the first time they really don’t need you at all – or so it must seem. But you can take comfort in the knowledge that now when your son wants to go somewhere with you, it’s not going to be just because he needs a ride – it’ll be because he wants to be with you. 🙂
What a sweet post – I love how it came full circle with your son playing Legos 🙂 My nephew just got his license and my sister is feeling pretty much the same as you. He’ll always be her little boy. But, they share a love of sports and he still watches all the games in her room – she never takes those moments for granted.