Rosie got the pink slip that allows her to drive on the roads with us. It didn’t seem like it was going to be stressful to me before, but when she asked if I would drive with her, suddenly I couldn’t let myself in that car. After all we’d been through to get here, nine months pregnant, almost in the clear, it suddenly felt incredibly stupid for me to get in the car with someone who had only driven four times. She was insulted and sullen. She insisted she was a really good driver — she’s been on the roads with a driving coach who has his own brake and accelerator on the passenger side, and apparently he didn’t have to use the brake last time she drove (only last time?). She has this way of seeming so mature and overconfident. So Steve drove with her without me, and he stopped her from narrowly turning left before the cars going straight had passed, and he didn’t get to stop her from not stopping at a stop sign, though thankfully no one was close enough to hit them. Last time she was with her driving coach, she texted at a stop light — and the driving coach said nothing. Steve drove with her this morning and she was concentrating on her make-up in the rearview mirror and so missed the fact that a light had turned green until a car honked and swerved around her. The world feels incredibly precarious right now, and the rules suddenly feel so important. I feel like wearing a whistle and blowing it at anyone who bends any rules at all. I just want to be good. I just want this baby to come out on time, and alive, and to never get in a car ever, ever.

January 2nd, 2010 | Category: happening, the baby thing | Subscribe to comments | Leave a comment | Trackback URL