A friend of mine received a frantic phone call from his daughter Tuesday afternoon. Do you remember last Tuesday’s snowfall? If you were driving from work on 494 you could have gotten home faster crawling in the ditch while pulling a tractor with a rope hooked to your mouth.
His daughter was driving home from Eden Prairie High School on a very slippery section of Pioneer Trail and right at the airport fishtailed a bit, overcorrected, and ended up in the ditch. It was close but she was fine. The car was fine. Tears, however, were flowing liberally. Sixty-five dollars later she was, against her will, plunked right back behind the driver’s seat and told to finish her trip home. Smart friend. Always get back on that horse. She made it without further incident.
I have a new driver’s permit holder in my home, daughter number two. She can’t go solo yet. She is only 15. But she had been driving around town prior to the recent snows. Her near opposite personality as distinguished from her older sister has led to a completely different attitude behind the wheel than I am used to. I am trying to adjust.
Just a few weeks ago while she was driving to the mall I was providing blow by blow advice for her on everything from trailing distance to the car ahead to my idea of the exact position of her foot on the accelerator. To my horror she stopped the car right in the road, stared me down and said, “You wanna drive?” Number one never reacted that way to my constant nagging … er, driving advice. She just ignored it.
I imagine that had it been my number two behind the wheel of that vehicle that slipped into the ditch Tuesday night, the first thing she would have done is exited the car and with fists pumping to the sky, stood in that ditch and cursed the snow and all things wet and white.
She then would have turned her attention to the other cars on Pioneer Trail. Ranting and raving she would have let them know it was clearly their fault that she slid into the ditch and that most likely one of them forced her off the road. Idiots!
I think back to simpler times when two kids leaving the driveway meant bicycles, not cars. How did I end up in this mess? More importantly, how can you avoid it?
First, if you are planning on having children but have not yet proceeded to that particular register at the check out line, please listen to this sage and wise advice from an old pro.
Don’t have a lot of babies all at once, in a big group. Pace yourself. Spread the pregnancies, the joy, the daily miracles, the messy diapers, and the eye watering odors out over a few years time. Perhaps twenty or thirty if you can manage.
Not only will a wide age spread help you cope when the children are babies but it may mean you can avoid the unique medical condition I am experiencing now. Researchers from Oxford University have identified my syndrome as YWNSAD, or You Will Never Sleep Again Dad. And from talking to friends and neighbors YWNSAD is running rampant in the greater Eden Prairie Community.
The syndrome stems from having a whole mess of children in a relatively short time period, which increases your odds of making large, expensive purchases all at once. The real devastating effect happens as each child turns fifteen and sixteen and they are all leaving and driving at once.
Cell phones have certainly eased some of my parental worrying. They allow me to know the exact location of each girl, when they arrived, and when they intend to be home. I still can’t sleep because of YWNSAD, but knowing they made it to their destination and are safe means I can relax a bit and maybe read a book.
And although your children being licensed means more free time for you not having to drive them to school, haul them to various activities and make trips back and forth to friends’ houses, it can be a double edged sword. Be careful what you wish for.
Because when your kids are gone, driving your cars, you are lonely. It is quiet. You are sad. And you are poor.
I still can’t believe they are both driving my car.