Pages

Tuesday, 4 October 2016

And so it begins...

You begin to worry about them while they are still in the womb. Then they sleep or don't sleep, crawl toward "danger", pull up at the corner of the coffee table, walk early, scale the side of their crib and throw themselves over...

He had some sort of facial injury for two years running when soccer pictures were taken. He walked in his sleep (oh my god, what will happen when he goes off to university and he sleep walks and no one will know what to do...), there were the usual scrapes and bumps (when the gravel embedded in his knee dropped out with a 'clink' at the supper table), the fevers and braces and dealing with bullies who weren't really bullies but just normal kids acting in normal pre adolescent boy ways, and losses of lives both animal and human, and good grades and not as good...

Yesterday my son got his license. He drove himself to his part time job after school. When he came home after work he was grinning like a fool. He drove himself to early volleyball practise this morning, and home again after the volleyball game out of town. I know he is a good driver. I am usually the one in the car with him while husband is doing other things and because my work place is in the same direction as his highschool . I believe him when he tells me he won't be looking at his phone while he drives. I know that he slows down in inclement weather.

But it's all the other idiots out there on the road that worry me. I went through this with our daughter, but in a different way. She waited a little longer to get her license. She also spent more time being driven around by her boyfriend. (Then I had to have enough confidence in him, as he had to protect my baby girl). My son has a girlfriend. She lives about 35 minutes away, driving a normal speed in good weather. He will be out on the roads, driving back from her house, perhaps driving to the only decent movie theatre which is 45 minutes away.

I am not so old as to forget the freedom and unmitigated joy of driving by yourself. Going somewhere in a car without your parents along for the ride. I suspect it is even sweeter for young men. I don't want to squash his joy. But I will expect him to text when he gets "there", wherever "there" is. I will forbid him to take the car in horrible winter weather (and we get that by the truckload!). I will have his hide if he gets a speeding ticket! But as a mother I will continue to worry and hope that everyone behaves themselves out on the roads, and those who don't are anticipated by my newly driving boy and he continues to learn and be cautious and be confident.

10 comments:

  1. Oh my gosh, yes! And it doesn't stop with the kids...wait until you have grandkids to worry about! :) All we can do is pray for their safety!

    ReplyDelete
  2. It never ends, does it? I think I actually worry about my kids more now than when they were little.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Ugh, driving. I never stop worrying about that. I wish I could. I'm with Birdie - the older they get, the more I worry about them.

    ReplyDelete
  4. You know, the worry never ends. It changes as they age, but the worrying parent card is never turned in. Good luck as you navigate letting him go, little by little. :)

    ReplyDelete
  5. I still remember what it was like to drive by myself. A great feeling.

    ReplyDelete
  6. Oh, I know this feeling much too well. I've experienced it with both of my daughters. Whenever one of my kids is driving all I see is a five year old behind the steering wheel :)

    ReplyDelete
  7. Thanks everyone for the comments. I knew there would be people out there who could relate.

    ReplyDelete
  8. Late to the party again, ah yes driving and all the freedoms it brings. That is my one big theme - driving is a privilege & not a right, so you have to continually earn that privilege & yet in our little village I continue to encounter some true speed maniacs! Maniacs I tell you ...

    ReplyDelete
  9. I hate the way they grow up behind our backs and venture out in the big bad world. Ungrateful brats I say!

    ReplyDelete
  10. So with you. My 21 year old has had some nasty near misses.

    ReplyDelete