Tag Archives: Nervous

The Test

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My youngest has been learning to drive for a little over a year. If it were left up to him, he’d never drive or get a car. He saw little value in getting a license. His father and I thought it important that he learn. “Having a driver’s license, and knowing how to drive is important.” He heard my words, but didn’t necessarily agree.

Practicing driving is nerve-racking for most parents. I desperately tried to keep my cool with him, but would occasionally (especially in the early drives) reach for the grab handle, or brace myself (maybe even close my eyes for a second?) as he drove too close to one side of the road or other, went too slow on the interstate, or struggled to change lanes with ease. I was proud that I rarely ever made an audible sound (unlike my own mom who was known for gasping, which made me more nervous, when I was learning to drive).

Our son finally got to a point where he could finally take the driving test. The first test we showed up for we learned he needed to take the knowledge test first (which we thought he’d already completed as part of the driving school classes he had taken), so we had to get that cared for. We practiced the questions night after night and a week later he took the test and passed. He was elated. Now we needed to take the driver’s test. We arrived to the appointment only to learn the evaluator was sick. He had been mentally prepared to take the test both times — aware of the importance of the test, and dealing with the nervousness you experience just wanting it over and behind you. He was disappointed but there was nothing we could do but reschedule the test.

We arrived at the testing facility. They said the test would take about 20 minutes. I found a nearby coffee shop and grabbed a drink to kill time. I was so nervous for my son. I wanted him to succeed. I knew he was prepared, but also nervous, and was unsure how it might go. I told him before the test that in the grand scheme of things the test means nothing. If he didn’t pass, we’d work on what he got wrong and he’d take the test again. It’s not like he was getting a terrible medical diagnosis or we were wondering where we’d sleep tonight, that it was just a test to prove he knows how to operate a car safely. I don’t know if it helped him, but it certainly helped me keep things in perspective.

He came back about 30 minutes later in the school car. He looked fine as he drove the car into the school garage. He came outside trying to keep a straight face. “You passed, didn’t you?” I asked. He smiled, “man, I was hoping to fool you!” His smile got as big as I’ve seen. He was so happy, tears of joy happy, relief, and pride that he had accomplished getting his license.

I was so happy for and proud of him. Being on the spectrum brought unique challenges to how he took driving instruction (particularly from his father and I), and learned how to drive, but he did it. The test seemed big and scary, but he overcame. Each success gives him that much more confidence in his growing independence. Now, if I could only get him to take the car out on his own (maybe even run an errand for mom?). 🥰

What’s a test your child experienced that helped them gain confidence from?

Nervous Wreck

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Have you ever been nervous for your child?

My older son plays flag football. He loves it. He was fortunate enough last year to play on a team that had fantastic coaches. The kids on the team learned to work hard and have fun. Everyone got to play, and the best part of all was the kids won enough games to get themselves into the regional Super Bowl tournament. The tournament was intense, the competition more fierce and I was a nervous wreck. It was very hard to watch what was happening. I tried to distract myself by pacing and standing back from the crowd, but nothing could quell my nerves. I so wanted my son and his team to win.

They made it through the first three rounds in spectacular fashion (winning one, losing one, going into overtime and ultimately winning to go into the next round). They lost in the semi-final game, in a game that could have gone either way — the other team had the ball last and they won. I was exhausted afterwards — you would have thought I had played four games in a row on the field.

This year my son is playing on an even better team, with the same coaches, so the kids are continuing to work hard and have fun, but they are also winning. They just won the local city-wide championship and are in the regionals, starting with the semi-final game. Watching the local city-wide championship, I again was a nervous wreck. I watched it with another mom from the team, and commented to one of the players grandmother’s that was there watching, “This is aging me beyond belief.”

My angst forced me to reflect on what am I nervous about exactly? I have no influence or power to determine the outcome of any game. All I can do is lend support and encouragement. It says nothing about my son, or me, if his team wins or loses. I actually think you learn a lot more when you lose than when you win. I know my son wants the win desperately. He is such a fan of the game and I know he has pro-football-dreams like many his age. I know that I want this for him because of how happy this will make him. Of course, I also know how disappointed a loss would be (and having to deal with him being upset wouldn’t be fun, but it’s not something I get nervous about). If I really peel back the layers, I think my nerves are around “Am I doing right by my son?” Are my husband and I giving him the experiences and opportunities to experience things that will shape him to become the person we hope him to be? If the team wins or loses, will he use the experience to grow in a positive direction?  I don’t know the answer, but I do feel like I’m better understanding where my nerves stem from.

Parenting is full of worry and angst. When moments of success happen (your child succeeds at something) there is a moment of — I’m a pretty okay parent. Moments when they make a mistake, falter or fail can make you feel like maybe you’re not as great a parent as you think you are. I see my role as a teacher for my boys. Help them learn, grow (through missteps) and have success. It’s priceless when it happens.

I’ll never forget watching my son’s team win the local championship. The shear joy radiating across his face was magical. I know my nerves will return watching him in the regionals, but I’m glad I understand what’s behind them. And despite the outcome of the game, I’ll be there for him — to celebrate with him or pick him up.

What’s behind your nerves as a parent?