Six months down, six to go

Milestones are always wonderful, no matter how inane.

Two days ago I hit a big one. Well, a big one for me. Monday was the six-month anniversary of my one-day Driver Improvement Class, a day in which I was given a 12-month challenge to not get any more speeding tickets under threat of losing my license.

So far, so good.

The threat actually extends beyond speeding -- I'm not to get any kind of moving violation prior to March 29, 2009 or I will, as mentioned, lose the license. Ordinarily I wouldn't worry, but being a person who can't remember ever going six months -- let alone 12 -- without getting pulled over for something, I'm a little nervous.

And truth be told, I almost didn't make it. One morning after altering my route to work because I had to take the kids to school (this is an important part of the story) I accidentally rolled through a stop sign -- right in front of a state trooper.

To my defense -- and she believed me -- the route I usually take has me turning on the same road, but with a yield sign instead of a stop sign. The new route had a stop sign. I didn't notice. She did give me a warning -- and a stern scolding for talking on my cell phone, something she said may have contributed to my not noticing the stop sign.

Oops.

But as I said earlier: so far, so good.

One thing I have learned about myself is that I do truly love to drive fast. It's not because I'm running late or because I'm in a hurry. It's because I really don't like being behind people. Or being passed by people. I'm also the person who is always -- regardless of traffic flow -- driving in the fast lane on the interstate.

I am learning how to drive more efficiently (I refuse to say "slowly.") One of the first things I noticed is that my 2001 Camry, which had gotten about 24 mpg on the highway before driver's school is now getting more like 28 to 30 mpg, depending on the wind.

Another thing I discovered was that my 16-year-old son, who hadn't expressed any interest in learning how to drive, was determined that I was not going to be the one to teach him. He scolds me when he sees me hovering around 60 on the highway -- "Good God, woman, just what does it take for you?" he says to me.

Great.

How did my kids get older when I didn't?

I'm not really sure how or when it happened, but somehow my kids grew up.

I thought I'd been an attentive mother, attending as many of the ball games as possible, getting the braces when needed, doing the school shopping, taking them to the movies and concerts and fairs.

Still, it took me by surprise.

Oh, I started getting little hints -- we'd get solicitations from colleges addressed to my son, my daughter started wearing a little bit of makeup and shopping in the juniors section of stores -- but I didn't think anything of it. I was still the 30-year-old mother of toddlers, at least in my head.

Then the other night it hit me. My son went to a college fair, talked to some representatives and came home with the announcement: he knows where he wants to go.

College? Really? How is that possible?

Then I sat down and started to think. He's 16 and learning to drive (he wasn't interested until now). He's a junior in high school and catches rides to games, movies and other events with friends. He's four inches taller than me (which should have been my first clue, really).

And he's interesting. Not that he wasn't before -- I've enjoyed every stage of my kids' lives (mostly!) but now we sit down and talk like "grown-ups," about real things that matter in places outside our little home. We talk social issues, music, politics, world events.

Then I started thinking about my daughter. At 13 she's not as advanced as her brother, although in some ways she's even more so. She's wearing a little bit of makeup and has a stylish haircut -- beyond the cute little bob I used to make her wear. She got asked out for her first date (she's too young to go, but she did get asked). Like her brother, she too is interesting: we talk about social issues as well, but also the changes that her circle of friends will go through, her hopes and dreams, and her strength in her faith.

So now I accept it. My kids are growing up, and they have been -- right in front of my eyes. They're growing into incredible people, and I'm excited for their futures.

But I'd still like to know how they got older when I didn't.