B is for Bad

I'm well aware that in most circles, the act of driving a Eurovan, perched high above the road with a steering wheel positioned out front like a school bus, is not all that cool. However, the ease with which I handled multiple trips around Arlington, the van full of high school rowers, most approximately 6 feet tall, and leading (yes, leading) the way for the Penske truck that carried hundreds of bags of mulch to deliver, I was the captain of my ship, and I knew it.

This post-journey bravado is likely explained by the misery I felt in the days leading up to the event. I'm prone to getting lost. I can be a little flaky, and I worry that the community will uncover this dreadful secret. And for those interested in digging further into my past, my first few years of driving resulted in two totaled cars, most likely due to my under-developed adolescent brain, leaving a long-lasting bruise and a fear of history that is doomed to repeat itself.

Today, I turned that big ol' wheel like I was born to drive, steady and true to the course. And when the rowers fatigued toward the end of the day, I flung some bags over my shoulder and threw some mulch down, too. Because that's the kind of badass mom that I am.

Life lesson: Don't let the past define the future.