Just a Kid

My boy turned 15. It doesn't seem possible. I remember like it was yesterday, when I went into labor. One thought kept running through my head- I changed my mind. I don't want to do this. Wait, wait, do over.

Now he's fifteen and we only have a few years left until 18 and I keep thinking- wait, do over. I didn't know anything.

He'll be starting drivers ed today. I keep thinking- no, he's not ready. He's just a kid. He'll kill himself. Then, I have a flashback of myself learning to drive and I want to throw myself over the hood of the car. Somehow, I don't think that would prevent him from driving it. I would just be a rather unwieldy hood ornament.

But it's not about me. That's the whole point.

You can't know the joy of riding a bike without a few skinned knees. I had to keep the anxiety out of my face then, too. I had to clean out the gravel, even though I knew it hurt and give him the bike to help him try again.

Buckle up, relax my death grip on the armrest, and breathe. That's my strategy. And please, keep your learning to drive stories to yourself (for a year or so, then I'll have a few to add myself).

He's off. Do you think he'll keep on the helmet?