I remember being of an age when I knew I'd be able to drive soon. I'm not sure if it was thirteen or fourteen or possibly fifteen. When I think back on this time it seems like I was very young, but that's memory for you. I remember being excited about the independence I'd get from having that coveted drivers license. This was before any driving was done. I was 100% enthusiasm and 0% responsibility. It only takes one time behind the wheel to realize it's not just gas pedals and fun.
The first time I ever got behind the wheel was before I took driver's education. My mother took me to a large parking lot on a weekend day and let me, very slowly, drive through it. My excitement quickly turned to worry. "Wow, this is a huge, heavy, machine with a lot of inertia once it gets going," I thought. Actually, I most likely didn't think anything of the sort in words, but as I recollect that day, those are the impressions I have of that silver Mercedes that suddenly felt like it weighed ten times more than it ever did when I was just a passenger.
That strange feeling went away fairly quickly as I got a feel for the level of control you get just from the steering wheel, brake and gas pedals. Now that I had mentally burdened myself with the responsibility to not only drive and control a car, I realized I also had to know how to get from place to place.
I wasn't driving this time, I was a passenger in the back of the car. I made a decision. I would learn the roads around town so that when I got my license, I'd know where everything was. I had plenty of opportunity, I was a passenger a lot and we drove around the areas I'd need to know as a driver. That day I remember making the plan to watch all the road signs and learn my city's streets.
I believe the first road we drove past was Blueberry Drive. Or was it Blueberry road? I'm not sure. Not unlike other teenagers, my plans were quickly in ruin. I didn't learn the streets, even though I did figure out how to make it around town once I'd gotten my license.
But back to Blueberry. That street is fairly close to where I live now. I completely forget about Blueberry because it's a dead end street and I've never known anyone who lives on it. But every so often, I'll drive by and notice the road name and have a flash back to my childhood and my plan to learn the streets.
The Big Boy Update: Gentle hands. The time-outing has begun. Or, "take five" or whatever you want to call it when you put a child over in a corner and have them cool down from a misbehavior. Usually it's for aggressive things like throwing in the house or being too rough with his sister. He doesn't stay in the corner yet by himself, so you have to sit there with him. There is no talking during the two minutes he sits there (one minute per year.) There is re-planting his butt on the floor as he cries and tries to escape and says over and over, "nice, nice," indicating he is repentant. At the end, you ask him to show you his "gentle hands" and I swear, it almost brings me to tears the way he does it. He hands you his little hands, very gently. They're palms up and completely relaxed and he is calm and ready to go back and play and he looks at you with a look that is genuine and honest and asking for forgiveness. I give him a little kiss and send him off. No explanations. He understood what happened. Or, if he didn't, he'll make the connection the next time. Too much explanations to a child his age don't help.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Down the stairs. She can go down the stairs now. She climbs up and then climbs down backwards. Getting started from the top of a flight isn't something she's figured out though. She doesn't know she needs to turn around and start backwards. Also, yearly shots. Lots of them. She is not nearly as cranky as I would have expected after all the inoculations she received today. Oh, and school. She went two hours, had a fantastic time her teacher said and was happy and ready to stay when I picked her up.
Fitness Update: So not a real exercise, but so very fun. Uncle Jonathan brought over Dance Central Three last night. He and I danced to songs from the seventies, eighties and into the nineties. We ended the night of dance with a sweet rendition of Vanilla Ice's, Ice Ice Baby. Okay, so it wasn't sweet, it was more awkward with a side of ungainly, but we made up for it in fun.
Someone Once Said: Gadflies are necessary. But it’s well to look at the new rascals before you turn your present rascals out. Democracy is a poor system; the only thing that can be said for it is that it’s eight times as good as any other method. Its worst fault is that its leaders reflect their constituents—a low level, but what can you expect. So look at him and ponder that, in his ignorance, stupidity, and self-seeking, he resembles his fellow Americans but is a notch or two above average. Then look at the man who will replace him if his government topples.
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