- Share This Post
- submit
- 1
-
Sparkle (0)
My first reaction to being chosen for a BlogHer carpool was excitement. I immediately rained on my own parade with self-doubt. Why would they choose me? Since I quit working to stay at home, my brain has turned to the mashed bananas that my feral child likes to stomp on the floors. Then again, with five children in five different schools, I do spend a huge amount of my time in a car.<!--break-->
I drive wet, slippery roads and I drive at sunset when the sun is shining directly in my eyes. I park in crowded school parking lots with the danger of children running without looking all around me. I sit in the car and wait and wait and wait for the teenagers to finally emerge from the building. I even drive two hours each way to teach the college freshman how to do his laundry. I'm practically an automotive professional.
I haven't had an accident since fifteen years ago when I had a severe case of pregnant brain and was mentally making a grocery list instead of giving myself enough braking distance. I haven't gotten a ticket since I was a teenager. When I was in college, I tried to always make it from campus in Knoxville to home in Memphis without making a single stop for fuel, food or restrooms. Now, I drive defensively, as if every other driver on the road is out to get me. I have a severe case of Mommy brake arm that amuses my children. You know, that right arm that swings out like a roller coaster safety bar every time you step on the brake. "Mu-therr, nobody is in the front except you and your arm is not a seat belt." Okay, the teenaged daughter is more embarrassed than amused.
I've been training for a BlogHer carpool for 18 years. I'm ready! Umm, actually, I haven't even started packing, but at least I worked through my insecurity. Well, one of them anyway.
