When the boy got his license, it was frightening but I wasn’t decommissioned. The ragazza was five years behind him, and she still needed me to drive her everywhere. Once again, I worry about my child being a new driver with limited experience. Yes, we signed her up for a driving class so she could do the prerequisite number of hours to get her driving permit, and my husband and I both allowed her to drive as much as possible.
Those days weren’t easy on us. The first time my husband took the ragazza out she drifted around a corner careening dangerously close to a street sign. My husband explained to her that she psychically had to turn the steering wheel, and I’m sure he didn’t say it in a calm voice. I also had many harrowing days on the road with the ragazza. In the beginning, she had an aversion to driving in the middle of her lane. I would repeatedly tell her “move over, move over” while mailboxes appeared only inches from the car. I would mentally tell people with dogs to just get inside until they were sure the road was clear. Within a year, the ragazza now makes smooth turns, stays a safe distance from the curb, and actually remembers to shut the car off before she hops out.
I have reached a mom milestone. Both of my children can drive. I have become the passenger in their lives instead of the driver. Recently, my mother pointed out to me that she has no remaining grandchildren who don’t drive. So, the circle of driving continues.