The rite of passage line starts here

At the door to the Texas Driver’s License field office, the Friday before school starts.

Seven in the morning. Doors open seven-thirty.

By the time we get to the information desk, we are number 84.

Sydney holding her number with number being served in the background.

Waiting and waiting in the endless line. Standing room only.

But I am getting ahead of myself. Because to get here, you have to go here. Where it all begin….behind the wheel.

A year ago, my daughter started the dreaded drivers ed at school, which included manual training. The one in which your fifteen year old knows more about road rules than you and is not afraid to point that out. Of course, this is BEFORE she even drives a real car. After weeks of classroom time, the ~~brave dedicated drivers ed instructor~~ teacher paying for his Harley, takes the little darlings (that must be some Harley) out on the road. Then, he deems them worthy of a getting a permit to drive YOUR car – with you “instructing” (or cowering in fear) your child yourself. It was at that time, I could only WISH for the droning correction of road violations and inches from the curb or corner, rather than – the floorboard stomping, rear bucking, clinging to the passenger door handle with all my might – ride of my life. Imagine going from annoying trivia to downright death-gripping terror.

Over and over and over.

There was not a happier soul than me on this child’s 16th birthday. SWEET SIXTEEN. Dreams of the DPS; a license waving, smiling child-o-mine warranted safe for the roads. Whoopee! I would be FREE.

Except I wasn’t. Unfortunately, we didn’t practice parallel parking. More unfortunate? That’s the first thing they make them do. If they can’t? They fail.

Didn’t I ask her if she could parallel park? Why yes, yes I did. Her answer, we did it once in driver’s ed. Do you feel comfortable testing? [:shrugs:]

In all honestly, I failed my parallel parking, but the nice DPS officer – dad of my brother’s best friend – passed me anyway. We were hoping she could be marked off for that and move on. But that wasn’t so. According to the strict, leather pant wearing (even I was intimidated) female DPS officer, you did have to pass that, or fail.

Crap.

So she failed, then she headed off to Mississippi for the summer with promises of practicing driving EVERY day. Her dad assured me, he would take her on the road and do his parental duty. He would step up and partake the same ~~hell~~ instructing, I had done the last six months.

Ah, but see, there is a little problem. What he did not tell me (and still hasn’t, but I figured out on my own thankyouverymuch) is that he has a phobia. it’s not very known, in fact, I couldn’t find the correct term. Fear of riding in the car with a teenage driver. But it’s something like amaxoephebiphobia (your welcome). Yeah. This is a real issue. Like spiders.

So she comes back from two months of bliss with absolutely NO ROAD DRIVING PRACTICE at all, but a really nice beach tan to show off. And do you know what that means in the feeble facebook, text messaging, iPhone, MTV mind of a teenager? We start ALL OVER. I assure you, there is no memory of driving skills. I re-take my place of PAIN in the passenger seat, except this time we add in parallel parking practice upon every outing.

I insist on the busy streets. I insist on parking between two cars. I insist on highway driving. I insist on everything that makes me cringe and weep. It’s a rite of passage. She must be a driver (to get to school, the mall, work). And we did, we drove everywhere – curbs, medians – you name it. All to build up to that day. THE DAY she tests again. When she is finally ready. That day when I can finally ride in the car with her, play words with friends on my iPhone, not stomping, not bucking, not worrying, if I will smack the windshield with my face. Just glancing here and there, playing my words. Ahh. Finally.

So we head to the DPS where begins our line. Our number. Our long wait.

Oh. Mm. Gee.

And then.
They run out of driving tests ten numbers before ours is called.

And then.
We wait in line anyway hoping they have pity on us.

And then.
They don’t and we leave frantically driving and calling other DPS offices.

And then.
They are all full too.

Anyone else a, Dude, Where’s my car fan? Heh.

And then.
We try the country. Cleburne. Because Cleburne is NEVER busy and Cleburne DPS office actually answers their phone and still had driving spots open.

And THEN.
It took us an hour to get there.

AND THEN.
The line looked liked this!

Grrr!

They ran out of spots while waiting in line.

And then…….
I called mercy. Uncle. It. Just. Wasn’t. Happening.

Crushed, we left. All that work, and she didn’t even get a chance to try.

I know you think, well, no problem – just go back the next day. But see, the drivers ed paperwork expired. So she had to re-request that, and then wait to get it back. School started, and there ya go. Another few weeks fly by.

Until yesterday, when we ventured back for another beating. DEEP BREATHS. Seven AM, you guessed it. Already a line formed for when they open at seven-thirty, but thankfully not as long. I refuse to get there with my lawn chair at four am. Refuse. By the time we got all the paperwork filled out, new thumb prints, and cute smiling little pic in front of the blue screen. The first road test opening was noon or three. She had school. I had work. I asked if a non-parent could bring her back for the driving test and they said yes. So, we got a three pm slot with Jason picking her up from school and taking her to it. I was disappointed to miss it. I really was. I wanted to see her face and give her a hug, win or lose. But it just didn’t work out, and you can’t say I didn’t try.

However, I am marrying the most wonderful man in the world. Even though, I wasn’t there. He texted me every moment. He knew how much it meant to me. He knew how long we practiced (and him too).

The officer beginning the test.

Sydney parallel parking like a champ.

She passed, she did it! Yay!

No one told me how emotional this would be. How hard and how rewarding.

Congratulations Sydney! You are a licensed driver in Texas and successfully completed a child’s (and parents) rite of passage. I am so very proud of you.

Now about that driving by yourself thing? Well, I think we need just a tad more time before we are ready. Maybe, we can follow behind you? Just for a little while……

Grounded Again! A Story of Youth.

Quite honestly, I was grounded often, and ~~unfairly~~ excessively as a teenager. I really felt like my parents got this sick joy from it [insert: evil laugh] because they grounded me with such relish.

Surely, it wasn’t because I would sneak out at night; take my stepdad’s car on a joyride, get caught driving my mom’s van to school, or steal liquor from their stash of Scotch Whiskey (all in my magical year of age thirteen). Nah!!

I did get caught at most of those things and more (eventually), but none compared to the grounding that occurred days after my sixteenth birthday.

My parents gave me a rockin’ car for my sweet day in August 87′. A 1984 Mercury Cougar; aka, the silver bullet. She was bewitching! I was in heaven – a teenagers dream – not only my own car, but a really nice one.

Their only rule? I could not pick up, nor see my boyfriend Mike, who they did not approve of. He was from the wrong side of the tracks and had bi-racial parents. Plus he was cute, charming, and corrupting; according to them. In other words, a normal teenage boy.

So I got my new car and I drove straight to his house to pick him up (of course!). We went to the car wash giving the silver bullet a blinding gleam. Then, as my parents wished, I took him home, advising him, he wasn’t allowed in my car. Sorry (thanks for the car wash), seeyalaterbye.

Next stop, the local swimming pool to see my friend Jason. He was a lifeguard. We were “just” friends. I took him for a ride (since HE was allowed) to all my girlfriend’s houses. We had a great time showing off my new wheels (and hot lifeguard), and I didn’t mind the new rule at all (heh).

I returned home, and there, waited MOTHER. By the look on her face, I was in big trouble and she knew. She knew!

Without a word, I was busted. I crumbled under her piercing gaze. I didn’t even bother trying to lie when she asked if Mike had been in my car. I admitted to my car wash guilt.

Grounded – again!

How she found out, I have no idea. Mike had only been in the car ten minutes and no one had seen us. It was not fair, after all, I had barely broken the rule *sniff*.

My punishment – six months restriction from my car. No driving whatsoever, not even to school for my Junior year. SIX MONTHS.

Even worse, as a High Schooler, I was required to ride the bus to school. Not that I couldn’t walk, or get a ride. I could have. The school was less than a mile from home and easily walkable. But no, this was part two of my punishment – riding the bus when I had a car in the driveway and a driver’s liscense in my wallet. The horror! I couldn’t even pretend I rode the bus, and not. My parents were ~~drinking buddies~~ best friends with the bus driver, who stopped by to report every night.

Talk about humiliating….that was the longest, hardest, most miserable six months of my life. Officially, it was only four months. For every room I cleaned spotless in the house, they minused off a day. It was brilliant child labor. Then I went to France for a month over Christmas. When I returned in January, they gave me the car back. I guess they felt sorry for me. Thank goodness!

The worse part of it all, was when I finally asked mom how she knew. She told me my girlfriend’s mom told her when she called her house looking for me. She had glanced outside seeing lifeguard Jason in the car, not boyfriend Mike, and mistakenly told her the wrong guy. Arrrrgh!!!

This post inspired by: I chose prompt number four: 4.) The craziest reason I ever got in trouble as a child.

Danger High School school zone ahead

On May 22, 2010May 25, 2010 By AngeliaIn In the lives of children, Wee Wee Wee all the way home!42 Comments

This is not just a regular school zone with the blinking 20 miles per hour yellow lights. A caution to go the speed limit because children (big kids) are walking, crossing, and hip hopping to school. Alright strike the hip hop, teenagers are not morning people. Point is, it’s a school zone. Point is, that’s pretty much a requirement to slow down.

Unless…..you are a teen driver that is, then you see this.

Or maybe you are a mad mom in a mini-van, you’ve got three other kids to get to school, a PTA council coffee you are late for, and a nail appointment right after. SO GET OUT OF THE WAY, PEOPLE!

No matter what you are.

Know this. Take heed to my warning and take it very, very seriously. Driving in a High School school zone is hazardous to your health. They should have portable defibrillators in the parking lots.

First off, no one slows down to twenty. Not at this school anyway. No one comes to a complete stop before leaving the parking lot and turning on the street. Not even a California stop. It’s a straight up gas it and go while you peal out and these are the moms, not the teens.

No the teens like to run late to school (seniors), therefore when you wait in line patiently to turn into the one way side of the lot, they come screeching from the TURN lane, narrowly miss your front bumper as the car careens, on two wheels and air, to the parking spot in the visitors slot right in front of the school.

Casually, they stroll out of the car (while you are still sitting there mouth hanging open) with their Bon Jovi hair in a toss and skinny jeans.The nerve! They didn’t even look my way or wave an apology. Huh!

Heck, this is all happening just getting INTO the school. Then, as I wait in line to get to the right spot in front of the school. Never mind all the right spots I already passed. My daughter will NOT get out of the car at any other spot. Just this one spot. What’s so special about that spot? I don’t know! But rather than push her out of the car, I wait until I arrive at the magic spot and she exits the car. Hallelujah!

Now I have to get OUT of the lot. My palms are sweating. I grip the wheel and frantically look around for the mad moms switching lanes (in front of school with kids jumping in and out of cars). Hello? Escaping them, I pull up to the exit lane only to get cut off by the mad career moms coming from the super secret entrance on the other side. Racing to get out MY exit when they see the never-ending exit line for the lot they came from. I don’t know about you, but I tend to yield to a Jag.

One car after another, I get to the exit. I look both ways hoping for clear, so I can just shut my eyes and floor it before a speeder comes racing through the blinking yellow lights on one side, or a teen driver out of NO WHERE from the opposite side. Just when I think it’s okay, a big RAM truck blocks my view by pulling up next to me. Oh. Em. Gee.

Finally, I punch it out of the lot and get past the last turn of double line cars with angry teens and moms. I barely miss a teen jumping out of the car stopped in the STREET. I mean they didn’t want to wait in the car lines, I get it. But seriously, how safe is that? Then, the mom does an illegal u-turn on the street to go back the other direction, all this in a school zone. YIKES.

Anxious, heart suffering irregular beats, I FLOOR IT out of there, make the turn without signaling to the road that takes me to freedom. AWAY FROM THE HIGH SCHOOL. I can breathe easy. Shooooooooooooooooo.

As my mind clears, I always have the same thought. WHERE ARE THE POLICEMEN? Why do they not have their ~~stun guns~~ radar guns out?

Well, it’s kind of country here. Apparently the two patrolmen on duty have appointments in the morning. Not saying a word about that.

See, everyone knows you can speed, turn illegally, let your kids out in the middle of the street, and in general obey no traffic laws at that time of day, because no one will be there. But hey, they are just teenagers, riiight?

So can I just say, HOW GLAD I am, that on Friday. My non-driving Freshman, then Sophomore exited the car in the hazardous school zone for the LAST TIME. School is out. My drop off duty fulfilled. My health and nerves get a summer break. AND as long as she passes her driver’s license exam (pleasepasspleasepasspleasepass), I am hazard zone FREE! Oh, she is passing alright, we are going at 730am and guess what? I’m bringing donuts.

Good-bye cruel school (zone that is)! I won’t be missing you…..ever.

The Fine Art of Car Dancing

On March 17, 2010March 18, 2010 By AngeliaIn In the lives of children, Life is what you make it., Love and Light39 Comments

I’ve been car dancing for as long as I can remember. Maybe I got a little more free with my moves when tinted windows became popular. I guess I thought I was semi-hidden until someone I knew saw me and never let me live it down. Eventually, I just didn’t care anymore. I busted my moves, cut my rug, and mashed those potatoes – in the car, in the grocery aisles, on the sidewalks. If the mood struck, I was DANCING.

Of course the fine art of car dancing is no fun alone, so I taught Sydney. And we didn’t just dance there but everywhere. It wasn’t too long ago we were getting down in the doorway of Pappasitos, waiting for Jason to pull the car around. Laughter bubbled over and who knows? Maybe it infected the restaurant patrons and staff. I’m sure it made a good show, or laugh. Or to them we might be The Crazies, as in the movie we recently watched.

Here is the thing, I have two little girls that are going to be my step daughters. The tradition has to be passed. We are a family of car dancers. They will teach their children, and those children theirs. I started training them last summer in the parking lot of Tom Thumb.

Let me tell ya, it didn’t take long. These kids are naturals. Imagine my delight when Lance from Jungle of Life emailed me about a special project to participate in – an International day of car dancing – brought to you by Katie from The Levity Project. If any of you were around for our mall Laugh fest it’s the same Katie, and the same Levity Project.

Our assignment – to jig it up car dancing all day and video 15-30 seconds of it. A-ha! Our mad skills would be recognized. Our greatness recorded. It was like making it to the Olympics after training all summer. Go team car dancing USA. I have to tell you, it was crazy cool. Contenders for a medal? I’ll let you decide.

I have a full length video of our car dancing day that is just not ready for release (unless you want a DVD mailed). What is ready is the official -GLOBAL- video just released today that includes our segment (3:14) that we sent in.

Great job done by ALL participants from all over the WORLD. I was stunned by the movement of this passion and where it ended up. Lance always includes a note that we are ALL CONNECTED, especially when we do a project of this kind. His post is here. Katie’s post is here.

Funny thing is, one of my GOOD friends is in this video from Waterloo, Ontario, Canada. I was so surprised and happy to see her grooving away. I met her a few years ago in person with a group of online ladies in Ohio. We all met on a thirty-something Ediets message board together. Who she knows from the Levity Project? I have no idea. But TRULY, it is a small world and we are ALL connected.

What an honor to be part of this event. I can’t even describe how proud it makes me to know such a life giving group of individuals seeking out ways to touch others with love and laughter.

Get ready to smile, laugh, and don’t forget – DANCE. Please share this video with everyone you know to brighten their day.