Raising Magnolias

Learning to Merge

19th street.

It’s my favorite way to get across town. It makes no sense, really. There are cars double parked, always. There is an emergency vehicle, an ambulance I think, parked. Always.

And.

Over a period of many, many blocks, there are only 2 stop signs.

Yes. That’s actually what I love.

But when I say no stop signs, I mean none. For any of us.

I, of course, know fully that I have the right-away but I get the distinct impression that drivers going north-south don’t understand this.

So.

For the safety of my children and because of the constant prodding from my husband, I yield.

I slow, I slow, look right, look left, right again and then I go.

Or yield

Or fully stop.

Come to think of it, 19th street is a lot of work.

And now that schools back in session, I’m looking for a new way.

Last week carpool took me one hour. Y’all! One hour to pick up two children in a relatively small town. For 10 years my home was at the eastern most part of a city that holds more than 150,000 residents. I could’ve circled that town three times and it wouldn’t have taken me an hour.

Then again, there is no 5-6 building in Sioux Falls.

My friend says that carpool is a great opportunity to work on your prayer life. I need to remember that. Last week I saw a woman park, get out of her car and start screaming at the woman behind her. I saw children walking in and out and everywhere. I saw cars sneaking in from behind and after about 4 such cars of trying the whole “merge, you’re turn, my turn” except that it seemed never to be my turn that I finally put up my hand, mouthed, “It’s my turn,” gave him a look that I could’ve only learned from my momma, and proceeded down the lane to pick up my child.

It’s because you married like 15 people.

And you some of those people you don’t like very much.

🙂

I have two speeds. Down 19th street and in life.

Fast and stop.

Full-speed or I’m takin’ a nap.

I want perfectly blended, melded, smooshed, smooched, tied-together with a beautiful flippin’ bow and I want it.

Now.

Not in 7 years.

You can fly down 19th street, hold your breath and hope that the other person stops but more than likely they won’t.

They don’t.

And they crash right into you with their words and their actions and their anger.

So how do we slow down? How do I acknowledge, as my friend recently reminded me, that we are in this for the long-haul.

Not for today.

Yield?

Merge?

Turn off the blender?

What day is it?

Our weeks aren’t Sunday-Saturday.

Our weeks are—

Who’s weekend is it? Who’s week is it?

Who’s Thursday is it? Who’s Wednesday is it?

Who’s coming home today, who’s merging back into the family routine and who’s leaving?

Where’s this bag and those socks and it’s at Dad’s and it’s at Mom’s it’s dang hard to maintain a home.

Harder still, at least for this momma, when it’s spread across three.