With Wings and Wheels

No, this is not actually a story about my 16 year-old son getting a moped.

I mean, it is, but that’s not the point I’m trying to convey with it.  Here’s a bit of background:

About a week ago, Tommy came to me while I was working in my home office.  His eager eyes, cautious approach, and the mere fact that he actually wanted to talk to his mother made me immediately wary.  Observing me carefully for my reaction, he laid out the situation: 

A friend of a friend was selling a moped, and Tommy wanted to go take a look at it.  He hurriedly added that he would be buying it with his own money, and would be using it to get himself to and from work.  Forgetting who his audience was (me), he launched into a technical discussion of the mechanical aspects (what he would need to adjust or fix).  After a few moments, I distilled the main point of the exchange:  my unlicensed teenage son wanted to buy and ride a moped.

Slowing My Roll

My brain immediately responded with a resounding “No!  No way!  Absolutely NOT!”  Thankfully, my little voice of reason won out (I DO listen to it, on occasion) and told me to allow him to finish his pitch.  When he was done, I gave what I thought was a safe answer:  “Okay, let me think about it.”

But Tommy would not be put off.  His voice took on an edge of urgency; other buyers were interested, it was in great shape for the price, it would not last, etc. With a sinking heart, I realized that I would have to deal with this sooner rather than later.

That night, I had a conversation with my sweetheart (who, thankfully, is mechanically inclined) and Tommy’s father.  After laying a few ground rules (he needs to get a moped license, wear a helmet, do his chores, keep his grades up, and other typical mom rules), I found myself relenting.  Long story short, he bought it, and the seller brought it to our house.  

The New Addition

As it rolled into the driveway, I eyed it like you would a new love interest for a beloved teenage daughter or son.  “You’d BETTER not let anything happen to my boy,” I threatened it silently.  Beaming with pride and happiness, Tommy showed me the different features and explained what needed tweaking.  Curious neighbors wandered over, and he eagerly showed off his new toy.  Shockingly, he even posed for a picture (smiling, no less!) and consented to my posting it on Facebook.

The Masses React

While I knew there would be a mixture of reactions from my friends and family, I was a bit surprised at the intensity of some of the comments on the post. Responses like “Ugh, no way!” and “Absolutely not!” sprinkled throughout the chain, and I could almost feel the disapproval radiating from them.  

Here’s the thing:  I didn’t care.  Ordinarily, I would have begun second guessing myself, worrying about whether or not I did the wrong thing, forming a plan for mitigating what was sure to be a disaster, and other doomsday strategies.  But I didn’t, because I have learned a few hard truths about parenting.  

Cold, Hard Facts

First and foremost, kids grow up.  As much as we might want to, they won’t stay little forever.  At some point, all we can do is stand back, hope they remember the good stuff we taught them, and (fingers crossed) admire the fruits of our labor.  We can (and should) remain a steadfast, reliable source of support throughout their entire lives.  But there comes a time where they are who they are, and they’re going to do what they’re going to do.  As long as they are growing in a positive direction, we can accept that and step aside.

Secondly, a determined kid with an unreasonably rigid parent will become REALLY good at deception.  I think each and every one of us has a story of something we did behind a parent’s back because we knew it would have been very, very forbidden.  (If you’re looking for one of my wild stories, forget it – my mother might read this). While it isn’t really feasible for him to own a moped without me knowing, I didn’t want him to come to the conclusion that he shouldn’t share anything with me ahead of time.

Keeping a Level Head

Personally, I want my children to be able to come to me with their problems, hopes, and desires, now and forever.  If I shoot down everything my kids are passionate about (whether it be dance or a moped), they’ll stop seeking my support.  When the stakes are higher and they’re dealing with serious problems (getting home after a night of drinking, for example), why would they reach out to me if I’m prone to overreaction?  

At the end of the day, my son is a good kid.  Yes, his room looks like FEMA should declare it a disaster area.  Sure, he is stubborn as a mule (or either of his parents).  Yep, he delays doing his chores as long as humanly possible.  Yes, he picks on his younger sisters sometimes.  But he has a job, rigorous schoolwork, and loves his family.  He lives in a house with three girls (I’m not really a girl anymore, but you get the point), and I can’t blame him for wanting some freedom.  

When he is talking about anything automotive, my son comes alive.  It’s the same with my girls and dance – it’s their passion.  Who am I to take that away?  What would I be teaching them if I tried?

Their Own Path

As my children grow up, I will undoubtedly feel the bittersweet pangs that are a natural part of parenting.  With wings (and wheels, apparently), they will leave me behind to pursue their dreams. If nothing else, I hope they’ll remember that I will be here to support and love them, through thick and thin, for the rest of my life.  I’ll just strap in, hang on tight, and hope the ride isn’t too bumpy.

Work hard, have fun! – Danielle

When COVID protocols barred dance moms from the competition’s dressing room, my girls rode solo for the first time. For more, read On Their Own (featured on Dream Duffel’s Facebook page).

For safety tips when riding a scooter or moped, click here.