Things My Teenager Says: On my way…

“One my way,” he texts, heading home from school.

Actually, he’s left school, had a burger with a buddy at a place nearby, studied a little (or sat and goofed around with said buddy while their laptops/books are open), and is now driving home. Yep. Driving. Freedom. Independence. And all he has to do is let us know where he is and when he’s heading somewhere else and be home at or around the time he’s told us he will be.

“K,” I text back.

Because, “Please be careful and don’t get distracted by your music. And look out for the crazy people on the road who’ll cut you off and not pay attention to what you’re doing. And how was school? And did you remember to stop for gas? Because your gauge isn’t always reliable in the Jeep. And don’t forget to text if you stop anywhere else…” might make me seem a bit anxious or overbearing or neurotic.

What?

I’m not.

Really.

I’m okay…

A month ago he had his learner’s permit. He was closer and safer and more contained, because he couldn’t just drive off on his own. And he wasn’t really acting as if he wanted to. Or even wanted to practice. Because practicing meant driving with us.

Now, he’s looking for ways to just drive and take the long way and stop here and there and just be free. My little boy. My young man. Who always texts and is where he says he’s going to be and drives so safe and carefully and aware of others, we’ve had friends who’ve seen him out and about who’ve remarked at how calmly and maturely he’s behaving behind the wheel.

He’s not breaking away. He’s driving away. He’s on his way…

And I’m so, so proud. Really.

I think I need a Valium.