10 & 2

It’s amazing how you remember all of your proper driving protocols when you are carrying precious cargo.  I never took “Drivers Ed” in High School.  My parents let me drive the 1 mile back and forth to church every Sunday morning at age 15.  This was a small test in comparison to all of the midnight joyrides I used to take when they were sleeping.  When I turned 16, a driver’s license was a short multiple choice tests and a three point turn away.  As I learned quickly, real world driving took place at a much faster rate than I thought.  Glancing at the drivers book did nothing to prepare you for 20 ton 18 wheelers barreling on your back, real world driving was the only thing that could make you ready. Taking this into consideration, I chose to use the summer of my 16^th birthday as a “test track’ for my driving skills.  I was even able to convince my parents to let me drive to and from band practice without a license for a week.  By the time my 16^th birthday came, a license was a mere formality.  I was a seasoned driver with plenty of real world driving hours on my belt.  I took my drivers test the weekend before school started, just to make it legit.

A certain amount of adrenaline goes into your system the first time you do something.  Like riding a roller-coaster for the first time, the clickity clack of the ascent ushers in a sensation that something special is about to occur.  As I pulled the car up to the entrance of the hospital, I felt those butterflies all over again.  My little girl was coming home. 

My first obstacle was figuring out the child seat.   Not an easy task for a four door car.  Suddenly, good enough to get you from A – B was not good enough.  Cars and “car” seats don’t always make the perfect match.  Reading the instructions on proper installation of the child seat are easy, but the great debate continues on whether a child should ride forwards or backwards.  I took the advice of Aunt Kathleen and made sure Kaia’s seat was securely in backwards.  With anticipation I awaited for Mandi’s chariot wheelchair to arrive.  Seeing her and Kaia come out of the hospital doors was surreal.  It didn’t seem as though this fairy tale was real, yet I was a main character.  Nevertheless, Cinderella needed a ride home and I was driving the carriage.  

Once Kaia was securely in the car, Mandi hopped around to the back seat and sat with her.  My mind flashed to those driving books.  I remember to check all angles before pulling out of the parking lot.  With my hands firmly on 10 & 2, I slowly guided the car down 434 to I-4.  If I could show white knuckles I would have as I had tight grip on the wheel.  All of my driving senses came back to me as we navigated the 20 mile journey home.  My cell phone offered no distraction as phone calls and text messages tried their best to obstruct me from the road.  (I realized how many times I have put someone else’s Cinderella in harms way by looking at an unimportant text or email.  Nevermore will this happen.)    

Looking in my rear view mirror I could see Mandi smiling from ear to ear.  Our little princess was safely tucked in her Graco chariot.  We were heading home with the most precious gift ever given to us.  As I thanked God for this wonderful blessing, two things really hit home with me:

1

1. This was going to be a “joy” ride like none other.
2. I may need to buy a Mini Van