approaching exit five

I went to high school in Providence, RI - about an hour from the town I grew up in. In general, I consider myself fortunate to have been able to go to that school; it was a wonderful school and a really great place for me to be. On top of the financial burden of sending me to school there, my parents also willingly supported the distance burdens that we picked up. I had to get to school after all. And someone had to get me there. Most of the time it was my mom, she got up early in the morning and drove me a whopping 25 minutes up I-95 to East Greenwich (exit 8), where I caught the bus. Then she turned immediately around to drive all the way back to go to work (exit 2). She'd work a full day, and leave to drive back up to East Greenwich to pick me up (exit 8), and we'd drive home (exit 1) together. When I think back to those times, now that I have a full time job, I hate myself for the times I stood there silently cursing her for making me wait a few minutes at the bus stop for her to arrive. I feel so ungrateful. Besides the time commitment, and the frequent gas station stops, I must add that she made all four of these daily trips basically alone.

My morning schedule went something like:
wake up, eat, brush teeth, get dressed, grab bag, pile into car.
This generally took a total of 25 minutes, and is interspersed with my dad gently telling my mom and I that we'd better hurry because we were late, as the two of us ran around looking for keys, or sneakers, or a notebook, or homework that was misplaced from the night before. Once I was piled into the car, I went to sleep. Seriously. Sometimes before we were out of the driveway. Most times before we were off our street.

It was a similar thing in the afternoons, I would get off the bus and hop in the car. Zzzzzzz. Seriously. Sometimes without saying Hi probably. What can I say, I was sleepy?!

My poor mother. But, I while I was awake I really enjoyed these times riding with her. We had fun. I remember one morning when we were listening to the radio and Tubthumping by Chumbawumba came on the radio. It was nothing special, but I remember it so clearly - we were just passing the Bess Eaton on Rte 3 and we both laughed about how ridiculous the name of the song, the name of the group, and the lyrics were (and then I likely went to sleep). I remember listening to Jones and Joan on 93.3, and tying to predict whether we'd miss the bus. I remember the crazy Wednesday afternoons where she probably wished I slept and I most definitely did not - choreographing complete dances while still buckled up (read, LOTS of hand motions!) And I remember approaching exit five.

My mom blogged about this today. In case you didn't click that link and read it, she said, about me, "She has grown into a wonderfully talented woman. But, for just a brief moment today she was that child in school, traveling with me up the highway." The fact that I grew into a wonderfully talented woman is not really a huge surprise to me - I have two wonderfully talented, generous, kind, supportive parents as role models. A bit of that was bound to rub off. But, I remember the days of riding with her to school as some of the happiest times I can think of.

Hey Mom, wanna drive me to work in the morning?? I've been especially tired lately, and could use the nap! hehehe. love you!