Trapped in the Car

As luck would have it, The Quiet One and I were in the car today. Just the 2 of us. I love it when I have one or the other teenager trapped in the car with me, just the 2 of us with no distractions. OK, maybe some Christmas music in the background. But they are my captive audience. I have the best conversations with them in the car.

Since they both now drive, this doesn't happen very often. Don't get me wrong, I love that they now drive. It makes my life so much easier. I'm no longer a taxi for 3, now it's just 1. But, I sometimes miss that one on one time in the car. So I try to create situations where it happens. And today it happened with The Quiet One. And this is awesome. As his alias implies, he is quiet. He doesn't volunteer information unless you ask. So the time in the car with him is great.

With the holidays coming up, I asked him if he was excited to go see his mom. Of course he is. So we talked about that a little bit, what they had planned, would he see his grandma, etc. Then I asked him if he sees his old friends when he visits there. And he said not really. He sees one, but not the rest. And then he went on to say that the kids there are different. Different how I ask. And he says "There sort of all punks." I find this to be an interesting comment, these were his friends. And then he goes on to say "You know, I'm really glad I moved up here." Say what?

This is the child who moved into our household under duress, for lack of a better word. He was failing high school, getting in trouble, had been arrested twice, smoking pot, etc. He was sullen and angry when he got here. Did not want to be here, was angry at his mom for shipping him away. Angry at us for making him come. Angry he was taken away from his friends. He was counting the days till he could return.

This same child is now telling me how glad he is that he lives here. He went on to say that the kids here are nicer, that even when they are joking and having fun they are still respectful. He actually used that word "respectful". He likes that there is no need for a police officer at the high school here, that there is no graffiti on the walls. It's nicer.

And I'm sitting there in awe. I'm in awe that he not only sees these differences, but that he is acknowledging it. That he is outwardly saying "I like it here, I'm glad I live here now." And I got a little teary. But I kept it in check because teenage boys don't appreciate a little happy cry. But what I did say is "Honey, I'm so happy that you like it here. Thank you for sharing that with me. You just made my day."

I have the best conversations with my kids in the car.