Before our move to the land of OZ I feared very little. I was truly thrilled for the adventure. I knew our “stuff” would make it there, eventually, I knew the boys would acclimate because kids are resilient, I knew Mark would thrive in his job, I was at ease with the idea of the change; the change of a lifetime. However, something I was not at ease with was driving. It’s what concerned me the most in fact. When we first arrived we were living in the CBD (Central Business District) of Sydney and we didn’t need a car. Mark had reserved one for when we arrived, but I talked him out of it saying, “Why do we need a car?!” Deep down, I wanted to avoid the entire topic. I didn’t even want to breach the idea; I was terrified. I knew Mark wouldn’t throw me to the wolves via the driver’s seat, but my heart still palpitated with the thought. After a week of living in the CBD with no car we were invited to a BBQ at the home of an old coworker of Mark’s. We needed to rent a car for the excursion over the Harbor Bridge. I remained calm and acted uninterested in the entire scenario, as if it was no big deal.
BBQ day arrived and Mark departed “rental apartment CBD” to pick up the car; we couldn’t all go because of the car seat issue – phew! He acquired the car and made it back in a timely manner. However, he walked in the door looking a bit weathered, shaky, and on alert. He had a healthy glow about him that I knew wasn’t due to pregnancy and he had a moist back and forehead, not only because it’s summer, but also because he just drove “on the wrong f’ing side of the road, and the wrong f’ing side of the car!” But, he has done this before in South Africa and England – no biggie, right?! Again, I remained calm and acted nonchalant, but supportive to his plight. I listened to the details of his harrowing journey; one-way streets, parked cars, strange turns – giving him all the empathy and love I had, but underneath was utter fear. How the FRICK was I ever going to drive?! At this point the idea of NEVER driving was running through my head. Maybe I’ll just plead incompetence, bad eyesight, seizures?!
But the show must go on. We installed the boys’ car seats in the white, Toyota Aurion; equivalent to the Camry. We input the address in the navigation system, Mark climbed into the driver’s seat, on the right hand-side of the car, and I climbed into the passenger seat on the left. The air of seriousness was palpable. It was so strange to sit on the left side of the car with no steering wheel in front of me – it just felt abnormal! Feeling our confusion and anxiety the boys were on their best behavior. We pulled out of the garage and onto Kent Street. We were driving. Mark made it clear that he needed my help keeping to the right, so if he got too close on the left I needed to tell him to move over. Oh jeez, this was a joint effort?! It felt like backwards day at school all over again. Remember backwards day? Pants on backwards, shoes on the wrong feet, shirt backwards – I hated backwards day, it made me feel off. I had to tell Mark to, “Move right!” several times, but he piloted the vehicle safely and we made it to our location without maiming any one or thing - success!
In the weeks to come whenever we journeyed out Mark would drive. He kept hinting that I needed to get, “back in the saddle,” and I agreed appeasingly, “You’re right, I will. Maybe the next time we head out,” but I avoided it, still. Thus far I had been able to get by with just my feet and a stroller when Mark was at work, but when we moved into our house in Manly misfortune struck when our aerobed blew up. Mark had to work the next day and couldn’t pick up a new aerobed. I hadn’t driven yet, so wasn’t too keen on putting my boys in harms way by hopping in the car and setting off without my coach, copilot, and all-around rock. The prospect of sleeping on the floor again was looming. I bowed my head; I was a kept woman and couldn’t accomplish a minor task. It was time. I needed to pull my big girl panties on (as Mom would say) and get behind the wheel.
My maiden voyage was to the Waitangi Mall (it’s actually called the Warringah Mall, but I nicknamed it the Waitangi Mall to channel my Spices). The Waitangi Mall is all of 6.4 km from our house, it might as well have been ½ km; it was all the same to me. I slid into the driver’s seat of the nobirds.com.au rental car, a white Toyota Corolla, my heart pounding, sweat beginning to dampen my lower back, a slight shake in my hands. Again, the boys knew something was up; they were quiet, as if respecting the sanctity of the moment. Mark suggested we drive around the block a few times. I put the Corolla in gear and eased onto Marshall Street. My mantra was, “STAY LEFT, STAY LEFT!” I sat at attention, back straight, eyes popped, hands tightly gripping the steering wheel at 10 and 2; I was 16 all over again – like a virgin. Fortunately we live in a very quiet neighborhood, I took a few laps around the block chattering as I went, “Ok, keeping left, blinker – oh wait, that’s the windshield wiper! Good on ye Steph, here we go, blinker’s on the right. Ok keep moving… oh no here comes a car! That’s ok, just stay left, stay left.” Truly, I did this. No wonder the boys were sitting like frozen popsicles in the backseat! Their mum had resorted to talking to herself! Mark sat in the passenger seat assuming the role as trainer and cheerleader; “Doing good sweetie, you’re a natural, you got it, see, not so bad, you ready to head out?!” I took a few more turns around the block before heading out to face the 6.4 km to the Waitangi Mall.
As I ventured out into the world, on the wrong side of the street, and the wrong side of the car, I for the life of me didn’t know which way was left, and which was right! Everything had just been flip flopped, but my left and right were still the same…right?! It was backwards day all over again! But, with the help of my copilot, and the silence of my children, I made it to the Waitangi Mall. I was a prizefighter and my coach blotted my brow through the 6.4 km excursion. I made it, and parked on my first try! I had broken the seal; I was ready to take on Australia via vehicle!
The next feat was driving without my cheerleader, anchor, and biggest support. I dropped Parker off at school one morning and explained to Reid on the way home that we would be getting into the car and heading to the big grocery story – again at the Waitangi Mall – they have everything! We loaded into the nobirds.com.au vehicle and I said, “Ok Reido, hold on buddy, here we go!” I proceeded to talk to myself, still, all while Reid was in the backseat saying. “I hold on Mommy!” And he was in fact holding on. His hands gripped the sides of his car seat, a supportive look on his delicate little face, big brown round eyes at attention. He was securely fastened not only by his buckles, but also by his clench, my literal, little man. When we safely arrived he cheered, clapping and all, saying, “We did it Mommy!” He carried on his cheerleader duties when Daddy couldn’t be there to wipe Mommy’s brow or give me a congratulatory kiss on the cheek; Reido accepted the undertaking and gave it his all. I officially considered myself a driver.
I still have issues with my right and left. And I still periodically repeat to myself, “Stay left, stay left!” But I’m driving. I also haven’t figured out how to use the rearview mirror – sounds weird I know, but I don’t use it! Carol, my Mother-in-Law said it best, “It’s not that hard, except when no one else is on the road with you, or when you pull out of a parking space, then it’s hard.” She was right; having the other cars helps orient me. Also, the frustration of turning left in the US has now been swapped with the ease of turning left; it’s turning right that’s a bitch! And when I pull up to a red light I ask myself, “Can I take a left on red?!” There are still still some kinks I’m working out. Let’s hope I can untie those kinks safely and with ease. But, I’m on the saddle, and no longer a kept woman; I have wheels.
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