Adventure Mother Driver

A few years ago, I realized why I feel fidgety by summer's end. As the daughter of a Delta pilot, summers often included vacation adventures that started when I was eleven. We traveled to a remote Bahamian island that year where my dad "lost" our passports and later hitchhiked with my sister when our rental car broke down. A few summers later we met Gertrude the Cow in Southern Bavaria when a dirt road ended in her pasture.

I've longed to share those type of adventures with my boys, but have not the resources, or at this point, the body.

So when Sam asked about swimming this summer from 5:45-8:15 am, I struggled a few days before figuring out how to mentally tackle the overwhelming request. I'm not heading to Europe or Hawaii or any other exotic location this summer. No, I'm adventure mother driver, alert in the wee hours, toting my man cub to and from the place of physical challenge. With bra in purse (in case we have a traffic altercation), I grab pillow and blanket and walk bleary eyed to the car. On my more alert days, I brush my teeth and even potty before heading out.

While Sam speeds through currents of chlorine, I let down the windows just a tad, hide my face from the rising sun, and protect the mother ship in the fetal position. When my man cub returns from his morning foray, we travel home for a mid-morning nap.

On day three this week, I woke from said mid-morning nap and proceeded to get ready for a Transforaminal lumbar shot in my back. I made coffee, pulled out crunchy Jif and a power bar, and ate while the pot brewed. Only after the bar was down did I wake enough to remember I wasn't supposed to eat before my Transforaminal shot procedure.

I don't know if the nurses understood how much energy it takes to be an adventure mother driver. But I had no other excuse for my mental lapse and had to wait an extra day for the shot.

I may have a host of mishaps ahead which is why my sense of adventure is heightened when I drive before sun up and sleep in the corner parking lot, communing with nature, supporting my swimmer son.