Slowing Down - A Lesson Learned from My Children

It was a beautiful spring day many years ago, and I was driving north on Interstate-83 with my twin daughters in the backseat of my car. I was in a hurry to get where I was going, though I no longer remember why I was in a hurry or where I was going. In retrospect, I think I was just always in a hurry. Life was a series of rushed excursions here and there. I never took time to "smell the roses", as they say.

So there I was, tooling along I-83 in the left lane, also known as the passing lane. There was no traffic in front of me, no traffic beside me, and no traffic behind me. I was keeping a steady pace. My girls were around six or seven years old at the time, and they were having one of their many goofy conversations in the back seat. I was not paying much attention to what was being said.

I rounded a curve in the highway and started up the hill toward the Leaders Heights exit. In the left lane ahead of me was a maroon colored minivan, crawling at an unhurried pace. There were no other cars in our vicinity. I figured the minivan would move to the right lane as I neared, but that was not the case. I approached the minivan, getting nearer and nearer, and the driver never moved the vehicle to the right.

Finally, exasperated, after riding behind the minivan closely for a minute or two, I abruptly moved my car into the right lane in an effort to pass the minivan as quickly as possible. My right foot pressed a little harder on the gas as I prepared to overtake this vehicle via the right lane. But lo and behold, the driver of the minivan, for reasons that escape me, decided at that moment to move over into the right lane. This move infuriated me! How dare this person cut me off!

I immediately moved my car back into the left lane and firmly pressed the gas pedal in order to move past this minivan at once. I was furious at this point, and felt the need to make this apparent to the driver of the minivan. This is why I pressed my palm to the horn on my steering wheel. Make no mistake; I did not simply "beep" at the driver. I pressed down on the horn and did not let up. This was a signature move of mine when another driver annoyed, frustrated, or angered me, and I was rather proud of it at the time. However, I was sufficiently angry that a simple horn-blowing was not going to satisfy me. This is why I also rolled down my window, lifted my arm outside, and proceeded to raise my middle finger at the driver as I was passing.

The next moment is what has cemented this event in my mind. Here I am, passing the minivan, laying my hand on the horn so that it drones on incessantly, waving my arm out the window while gesturing offensively at the other driver, and I actually hear what my daughters are saying to each other calmly in the backseat. One of them says to the other: "That's our gym teacher!", and they proceed to wave with enthusiasm at the driver of the minivan.

My heart stopped for a moment. I felt a little sick. I imagined this gym teacher telling all the other teachers, and possibly other parents, about what a nutcase Erin and Erica have for a mom. I was mortified!

So, I did the only thing any parent would do at that moment. I firmly told my girls to stop waving and to duck down in the backseat. I think it went something like this: "Stop waving! Duck! DUCK!!"

This humiliating event taught me several valuable lessons. First, I need to slow down and learn to be patient. The fact that I don't even remember where I was going or why I was in a hurry is quite telling. I was rushing out of habit and for no other important reason. Second, I need to realize that my actions do affect others. The things I do reflect upon my children, friends, and other associates. And finally, I learned that it is always a good idea, regardless of their age, to pay attention to what your children are saying.