Student Drivers
My twin fifteen year old daughters recently reached a major goal in their life, one that brings me daily terror. They both received their learner’s permits and the driver’s seat of my van has become a position of great debate.
Taylor drives like her great grandma did in her 80’s. Seriously. I think we were once lapped by a wagon train. Now, I can’t disregard the idea that she is being extremely cautious and careful. I appreciate her slow pace. However, she clings to the steering wheel so tightly that she has white knuckles, her anxiety seems to transfer into me, even as I calmly give her instructions. Let me tell you, there is NO calm within me. Inside myself I am clinging to the “oh shit” handle on the passenger side and closing my eyes to avoid seeing my imminent death. She goes from being so close to the center line that I think we are surely going to collide with another vehicle and when I calmly remind her that she is going to kill us in 10, 9, 8, 7, 6 she will swerve away from the center line and catch the shoulder of the road, causing me to press my hands against the passenger window in an attempt to physically push us away from the ditch. It doesn’t work. Not even a little bit. Somehow I eventually get her in the middle of her lane and have considered how long it would take me to walk home.
Madison is another story. She has always been my cautious one. I didn’t expect her to have driving qualities that could quite possibly place her as a Nascar driver. There is no such thing as slow. Why would we go slow? We want to get somewhere, right? Step on it. She drives smoothly, but she does crazy things like accelerating as she approaches a stop sign and then testing my brakes to see how well they work. She should do well in the “quick stop” part of the behind the wheel exam. My brakes now squeak. Not only does she think she is a good driver already, but she actually thinks that it is possible to listen to music AND drive. Yeah right. She even thinks about touching the volume button on the radio and I will rip the thing from the dash and throw it out the window. What difference does it make, we are going too fast to have time to listen anyway. I have also discovered that she has no sense of direction. Not even a little. She has been riding around with me for over 15 years and she still can’t find her way around town.
Honestly, I am not sure that either side of this is more desirable. They are both improving with their driving skills and my internal voice doesn’t scream quite as often. I don’t know if it is because she has lost her voice or if she has grown immune to near death experiences.
I decided that all teenagers that are learning to drive should have a “student driver” sign on their car, whether they are with a trained instructor or a terrified parent. This warns those around us that it may not be safe at any given moment and also gets the road raged psychopaths from riding their bumper. My daughters did not appreciate my sense of humor when I took the marker to the back window of my mommyvan. I was in a hurry so it isn’t pretty, but I think it works.
MOMMY ON EDGE 