Monday, August 18, 2014

Let Go!

“Make sure to wait to use your turn signal for the main road until you get past that little side road entrance,” I caution. “Whoops, sorry, we’re going to the bank; you’re turning on the side road. I’ll shut up and let you drive.” Mental note to zip it. He’s been driving since June on his own. My coaching is complete. Let go of control – let him drive and learn. Trust he’ll figure it out.

At 15 with my learner’s permit, taking a trip to Cleveland, my older brother drove the hour from the Illinois state line area to the crazy 465 loop around Indianapolis. He pulled over and said, “Your turn.” And he proceeded to fall asleep. I white-knuckled it around the 465 race track and the rest of the way to Cleveland. He threw me in the ocean and I swam. Confident driver ever since.

“Bud, you don’t have to stop there – oh, wait, you need to yield to oncoming cars in the parking lot. Whoops, sorry again. I’ll try to hold my tongue.” “Yeah, Mom, it’s okay. I’ve got this.”

We started our morning errands at the orthodontist. “Do you want to drive,” I ask. “Yes,” he says. As I take the passenger seat, I realize this is the first time he’s chauffeuring. Shoot, I can text and get all kinds of distracted, not focusing on opportunities for teaching moments. We’ve completed our 50 hours of driver training.

He’s transitioned from being gone just a couple nights a week to maybe being home a couple nights a week. Going to gatherings where he may only know one person instead of hanging with the posse of friends he’s known since fourth grade. He’s meeting lots of new people. Josh is outgoing, confident. He walks in a room and makes new friends. Unlike me where I will make sure I know at least one person at the party (hopefully more because most likely it’s the host and she’ll be busy mingling) and struggle to talk to new people.

My husband and I have taught him a foundation, and we get to (have to) let him make choices and mistakes at this point and make sure he knows we will love him through it all. Better now than when he’s in college, right? God, I’ve said that to friends who’ve gone through this already with their children. This adjustment is rocky. Were they ready to wring my neck over my inexperienced input?

Within one week he gained his license, started employment, opened bank accounts, learned to use a debit card, mastered pumping gas, make curfew when driving (which is 10:00 pm, by the way, during the six-month driver probation period, something we learned online as he pulled up at 10:45 his first night out driving alone). He’s on the brink of 17, folks. And from what I hear, he’s a late bloomer.

It goes against my nature to trust first; I was a lucky liar as a teen. But alas, he’s not me. Can’t wrap my mind around why I’m so excited for these next few years but my heart starting to squeeze in the rapid approach.

After a handful of failed attempts to keep my mouth shut while we completed our hour-long errands, finally I succeeded by not telling him “the light’s green, you need to go.” Through my comments this morning he responded with grace. Patience at its finest.

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