As a basketball/baseball, softball, and tennis mom, I haul kids all around the Triangle.  Add to that, driving from my home in Cary to schools in Raleigh, I really put some travel time on my van.  In a given day, I can drive 80 miles.

Being on the road so much, it’s understandable that on very rare occasions, I get a teensy bit annoyed with my fellow road warriors.  Even more rarely, I’ll verbalize these feelings of annoyance in the privacy of my own car.

However, with teenage drivers on the horizon, I’ve been wondering if I should set a better example of patience. (Dang kids!  Next thing you know, they’ll say I shouldn’t text while I drive.  Oops.)

In preparation for Lenten season, a traditional time of sacrifice, I’ve decided to give up my frustration and anger toward other drivers.  For the next 40 days, I will no longer act as if I am the only perfect driver and all those around me —how shall I put this delicately? –are not.

Strangely enough, when I first moved to North Carolina, the native drivers charmed me.  It was downright upright the way they would practically come to a full STOP on U.S. 1 to allow a car to merge a good half mile before the merge lane ended.  And it was so fresh and unpredictable the way a driver could suddenly turn right without putting on a turn signal.  How did they know that I loved the suspense of driving behind them?

Oh — and driving in inclement weather.  I used to wonder if my North Carolina neighbors simply lacked the knowledge and skill to drive in snow, sleet, ice or, frankly, rain. But after slipping and sliding my way to school a few years ago, I realized that the problem lies in what surely must be the Triangle’s single snowplow’s inability to remove all of the snow. So to all the drivers whose mothers I may have inadvertently called out of their name, I do apologize.

It’s becoming increasingly obvious that a time out from road rage is needed. A few rules are necessary to help make this process a success.

No negative remarks allowed.  Now, to clarify—if say a snazzy little sports car cuts me off as I’m driving down I-40, I am not allowed to say things like: “What an idiot!” or “What are you thinking?” or “Oh, yes, it’s all about YOU, now isn’t it?”  

I AM, however, allowed to mildly observe that the driver must need to get somewhere in a rush, and to wish them Godspeed.

No hand gestures.  A friendly wave, involving ALL five fingers is acceptable, particularly when encouraging a car to go ahead of me.
When sitting behind a car stopped at a light that has now turned green, instead of saying “It’s not going to get any greener,” or suggesting that the driver is awaiting an engraved invitation to go, I will wait patiently, while deep breathing.  On the most extreme cases, I am allowed a friendly, soft, little toot of my horn, which translates to “Excuse me, my friend, but perhaps you did not realize that the light you’ve been sitting at for two minutes has changed, and maybe you would like to proceed.” I will not add that although that driver may not have anywhere to go, the rest of us do.  I absolutely will not.

No begrudging attitudes.  You know how you motion for a pedestrian to cross in front of you, and then they go at a snail’s pace? Or how you impatiently motion for a car to merge in front of you?  No more of that.  When I let people cross in front of me (and I plan on doing that a lot), I’ll be doing with a smile on my face and goodwill in my heart.

I’m sure that this exercise in good driving habits will increase my patience, lower my blood pressure, provide positive examples for my children and give me a more optimistic view of the future of commuting.  But just in case I’m wrong, when Lent ends on Easter, you may want to stay off the road.

Pamela DeLoatch appears Tuesdays on TriangleMom2Mom.