The last time I tried to teach a child to drive it ended with me cussing. I had momentary mental lapse and forgot I was a mother. I reverted back to my young, single and hanging with the home girls, hands on my hips, bobbing my head and cussing like a sailor days. Worse, it was foul. I can’t repeat the words that spewed from my mouth. All I can say is I used the F word more than once, grabbed the steering wheel and I'm sure my face transformed into something that probaby looked to him like a zombie chomping. I’m ashamed. I rendered my poor child to tears.

So you can see why I’ve been reluctant to get back in the passenger seat with the intent to teach my second child to drive a car. I’ve asked several friends to step in and do it for me, but they have all been way to busy to help out on this. Actually I think they are probably having their own horrible flashbacks from when they taught their own children to drive.

The last time for me was about six years ago. But then, I was saved by my husband who after realizing I just didn’t have the patience to be a driving instructor for my own children, took over and finished the deed. But this time it’s all on me. Lord help me and Lord help Jordan (that’s my son) is all I can say.

This past week, knowing I would have to try, and since Jordan’s got passed his permit test and has a car that is just sitting under the carport, I made an attempt.

He got behind the wheel and I took a few deep breaths and promised myself I would speak softly and calmly. I promised myself I would give instructions slowly. That way he would stay calm. No tears this time. No cussing. I promise.

It started out great.

Pull to the edge of the driveway, I told him. Stop. Look both ways and when the way is clear pull out into the road and turn the wheel to make a left turn. No problem. You got this. I told him. Great job. Just stay in you lane. You know the traffic signals, stop at the stop signs and red lights and go on the green. Slow to a stop on the yellow. Everything was going fine. Then he started letting the car drift to the right. Calmly, I warned him. “You must maintain control of the car. You don’t want to hug the right side of the road. Stay in the middle of the lane. You are the boss. This is just a machine. You got this.”

The next thing I know the car is drifting right again. “Jordan,“ I say, “stay to the middle of the lane; not too far left or right. Maintain control.” I’m still calm. The car drifts right again. OK, after telling him three times to stay in the center of the lane, calm is too much to ask of me. I raise my voice. “What are you doing? I told you that you have to maintain control. I told you not to let the car drift right.” The next thing I know I’m screaming at the child. But I didn’t cuss.

“I’m trying,” he shouted back. “If you run off the side of the road, trying won’t be enough,” I shout back.

Jordan pulled the car over to the side of the road and put it in park. He looked at me as if he were about to cry. I could see the water welling in his eyes. “Forget it mom,” he said. “You drive then. The truth mom is that this is the scariest thing that I have ever done. I want to do it right and you are not helping.”

Oh no. It’s happening again and I didn’t even cuss this time. So I start apologizing and praising.

“I’m sorry I yelled. I don’t mean it. You are doing fine. You can do this. I can do this. I have to teach you to drive. I promise I won’t yell.”

We both calm down and he eases off back into traffic and heads for home. He did a great job.

When I was his age and learning to drive, it was the scariest thing in the world to me too. I wanted to do it well too. I wanted to be the best driver ever. I know he does too. He’s never really failed at anything he’s tried.

The truth is I’m the one making this so hard. Lord help me. I’ve got to teach him to drive. I’ve got to do it with out losing it. He doesn’t know it, but that’s as hard for me as learning to drive is for him. Lord help us both.