Driving Lessons in Snow

The snow started coming around 1:45 in the afternoon on President's Day, a few hours earlier than forecast, which augured for a heavy storm to begin. By evening, there was a good inch-and-a-half to two inches of very powdery snow outside, which (I thought) was the perfect chance to let David learn a little about driving in the snow.

We spent an hour in it, mostly between a church parking lot and the high school's parking lot. Some takeaways from our playtime:

• It's a lot harder today to make a car skid than it was when I was learning, when we didn't have ABS and TRAC systems and multiple redundancies and so forth. The Mom-Mobile will only let you turn off so much.
• Plus, fresh tires this fall, and dry, powdery snow (instead of slick wet stuff) doesn't help.
• Despite that, we did get to give him a few experiences. He fishtailed a bit in each parking lot, seeing how the van tried to slide away from him. He also got to feel the shuddering of the ABS system multiple times.
• We went through a fun little slalom at the high school parking lot, and he got to experience how much l-o-n-g-e-r it takes to stop when sliding on the snow.
• He's such a careful driver at this point, it makes me proud. He resolutely kept well below the speed limits on Silverbrook, in an abundance of caution in the new conditions. He didn't really go wild in the parking lots, either--no actual donuts--but still had the chance to see what the various conditions could be like.

The Next Adventure: Driving

As I've said before, the theme of this year is "adolescence," and one of the most significant adolescent rites of passage is learning to drive. We've now begun that phase of life, with David passing his learner's permit test last week, so there is now a new driver in the Commonwealth of Virginia.

I took him by on Tuesday in the early afternoon, and the Lorton DMV station was practically empty. He was immediately called up to the window, and began the initial processing, including the charming DMV photo. After a brief wait, he was called up to go on in to the computer testing lab, and my waiting began.

There was another boy there, who was called into the testing room moments after David. The minutes ticked by, and I have to confess, I didn't look to see how long it was--maybe five minutes? But it felt much longer. Then the other boy emerged, beaming--but not David, not yet. He took a little while longer, then I saw him come out, trying to motion me over as cooly and nonchalantly as possible, but I knew, just knew, that he had passed it--he couldn't hold it in, he was so happy.

I told him how proud I was of him, and after collecting the final paperwork, headed out. He refused to take a celebratory photo outside the DMV, naturally. We then headed home.

Entering our neighborhood, I drove up about a block and a half, so we would be pretty much alone, and pulled to the curb. "Switch with me," I said, and he did, to drive the last block and a half home. He learned in a hurry that it doesn't take a lot of pressure on the accelerator to make a car go, nor does it take a lot of pressure on the brake to make it stop. But he stopped at the stop sign well, and he drove right down the center of the street, making doubly sure he wouldn't hit anything. We turned onto our street, and he spotted neighbor Mark's car parked on the street next to our driveway.

"I'm gonna hit him," he said, and instead from an abundance of caution came to a stop at the entrance to the cul-de-sac proper. I told him he needed just to turn into the driveway, but he took the long way around the cul-de-sac, avoiding hitting anything except the brake pedal in the driveway, leaving two very short skid marks on the blacktop.

Our first chance to drive, and I liked what I saw: he brought a very healthy about of fear to it. There was no bravado, instead just a very, very cautious approach to piloting a car for the first time. He wanted me, when I bragged about it on social media, to use #beafraid or #beveryafraid to describe the fact that he was now on the road. But y'know, I won't. We have a lot to do over the next 45 hours of driving together, but if he can keep that healthy respect for what he's embarked upon, then I think people won't have anything to be afraid about when he's behind the wheel. If anything, the fear I have is more the fear of the idiots out there driving in NoVA who pose the greater risk to him. And so as I posted on Facebook, "To my son, I am very proud of you, and I look forward to this new adventure. To all the yutzes driving badly in NoVA, I love my boy, and if you hurt him I shall hurt you. That is all."

Learning to Drive: Making the Leap

The process by which David will begin to join the 210 million licensed drivers in the United States began this Wednesday night, an evening that was almost a perfect illustration of the concept of "adolescence."

Virginia mandates that parents and their teens must attend a 90-minute briefing before the teen can be licensed.  The doors to the auditorium locked promptly at 7, and for the next 90 minutes the hair-raising ride began.  David's PE teachers double as the driver's ed teachers, and they alternated with a FCPD officer in providing lectures and videos about driver's ed.  Some of it was helpful, like how the licensure process works in the Commonwealth.  Some of it was scary, such as the statistics about accident rates among male drivers aged 18-19.  And some of it was absolutely heart-rending, such as the video about texting and driving, which related three stories of lives cut down or torn apart.  

I have always had a nightmare in which we open our front door to find a FCPD officer standing there to bring our world crashing down.  I now have to face that over the next few months we will be equipping David to deal with the lunacy of traffic and driving in NoVA, and pray we will do well enough to keep that wolf from our door.  More than once in the evening I felt guilt, over not being an ideal role model for him to copy from; and wistfulness, as the boy whose birth I remember as being just a couple of days ago is now shaving and getting ready to pilot a two-ton vehicle at highway speeds.

It's hard to say what his reaction was to the night: he didn't betray much at the videos.  He hasn't seemed in a rush to study his driver's manual, or indeed to get started on this process.  But in his own way--trying desperately to hide it beneath that teen boy mask of cool--I sensed anticipation, anxiousness to get started, and yes, a respectable amount of intimidation at the prospect of what he's about to undertake and how incredibly bad things can break if they go wrong.  If I read him right, then, I think that's a pretty constructive place to start.

An evening that began with one foot cautiously edging into deeply adult waters--conversations and videos all about responsibilities and consequences--changed when we got home and David wanted to power-down before heading to bed.  His vehicle for doing so? Old reruns of The Kids Next Door.  How very much like a teen: one moment on the verge of adulthood, the next, retreating into the familiar warm confines of childhood.  I had to smile.  We'll have our challenges, getting ready for the next few months and the driving tests still ahead.  But he's still my little boy after all, for one more night.