Carpool

I have a lot to say on this topic. I remember when I first discovered the concept of carpool. I was gently introduced to the world of pooling by a more experienced mother who, along with another friend, convinced me that we should share the driving for our preschoolers. This was many years ago. At the time, I was sure that this was a wonderful option. What could be bad about driving a couple of extra kids to the location you are already planning to go, hence sharing the driving, resulting in many fewer drives during the week? What a brilliant concept. But I still remember that first day I picked up the three other little children, strapped them into their carseats, and drove to nursery school. I looked back at the three-year-olds, listened to them chatter, watched them suck their thumbs, and had a panic attack. In retrospect, this was the correct emotion.

Now, I have to say that the carpools I have been involved in have been really nice, flexible, and accommodating and I am friends with all the women I have ever carpooled with TO THIS DAY. But the relationships are fraught with drama. For example, some young children (Eva, ages 2-5) have a complete temper tantrum each time someone comes to the door to pick her up and the mother (moi) has to firmly place the child in the car, sit on top of her, and buckle her in. And leave her shoes and tights in her backpack along with the coat she refuses to put on.

Also, for instance, some people have different ideas of the meaning of the phrase "nursery school starts at 9 AM." One mother I carpooled with (I love you very much you know who you are), used to pull up to my house at 910 for preschool carpool. The school is at least 10 minutes away. Her attitude was, "Who cares? It's only preschool. It's not like they get a late note or something." My attitude was, "I need to get rid of my children as quickly as possible so I can go to Starbucks."

And once your kids are out of preschool and onto elementary school, which is far away and starts at 8:15, getting out the door with your own kids is hard enough, let alone picking up other people's kids. You basically have to start getting ready at 5:43 AM. Especially when you have a newborn and two toddlers, like when Pes was in kindergarten.

And you must realize that even if you do carpool in the morning and your kids are totally ready by 730, it doesn't mean that when you get to House A to pick up Jenny and Bob, they will be running out the door all ready the minute you honk the horn. Each stop robs precious minutes from the trip, and getting to school on time is important when you do get late notes. And by the time you've waited another five minutes at House B for Paul and arrived at school at 814, you are sweating so much and are so exhausted that you just have to go home and take a nap. For the rest of the day. Until you have to pick up afternoon carpool. But this is impossible when you have, say, a screaming baby and two toddlers to take to preschool. For your second carpool of the morning. See where this is going?

So the past couple of years, I have phased out carpool (aside from certain of Perfect Eldest Son's activities, see below) for a wide variety of reasons, some of whom will remain nameless. While most people define carpool as, "a formal arrangement of sharing driving with another family," I have now broadened the definition to, "driving around in circles, which at some point involves picking up mine and/or another person's child/ren."

Recently, for instance, a friend called to ask if I could take a boy home who lives near me. It wasn't really a problem, I was going that way anyway, but I had no idea who the kid was and vice versa. So when I got to school, I said to Rabbi Headmaster, "I have to take Billy home, I have no idea who he is and he has no idea who I am." Rabbi Headmaster wisely yelled into the walky-talky, "Billy has to go with Mrs. Cake, direct him to her car." All taken care of. Except it's weird having a kid in the car you've never met. Because what if they are dangerous or something?

One day not too long ago, I had a most interesting carpool day. It all started around 315 when I got a call from a friend who told me to wait for her at school as she had something to give me. So when I arrived at school around 330, I parked in the lot. Normally I participate in the the Carpool Line. This is a very complicated procedure which involves several adults, many walky-talkies, a lot of praying, and, sometimes, I assume, profanity (not that I would ever engage in that). I believe that there is now a degree program at the University of My State in "Carpool Management" in the Industrial Engineering department.

Anyway, I waited in the parking lot until my lovely friend (whose idea of a 330 pick up is around 350, see what I mean?) arrived, and she gave me the most beautiful gift of a Yiddish book of poems. I was pleased. Then I walked around to where Perfect Eldest Son (Pes) was playing in his afterschool recess before the boys' afternoon learning (called mishmar), and saw his English teacher, resulting in a brief parent/teacher conference. Meanwhile, another friend gave me an awesome present (calendar of Yiddish word a day), and I discussed some fascinating articles in Mishpocha Magazine with another friend. The school parking lot can sometimes be a little like Anatevka.

But this pleasant afternoon was about to take a darker turn. I left school with my girls and arrived home well after 4 with a lot of groceries to unload. I quickly did so, dropped them with my housekeeper and Gorby, and then turned right around and headed back to school. That's right, 25 minutes back to where I had just been, to pick up six 5th grade boys (!) from mishmar and take them all home. After that, I arrived home right around 515 and let Pes change for five minutes and, you guessed it, got back in the car with Pes and picked up 6 completely different boys (!) for basketball practice. Which is located far away. And started at 545. In a completely different direction. And as my last basketball carpool had involved a fistfight in the car (yes, really), I was a little stressed, to say the least. Here was an instance where, "Just pick up a bunch of kids so you have to drive less, what's the big deal, no problem," does not apply. This is where, "Strategic seating, careful balance between mean mom/nice mom, and take deep breaths" is crucial.

Let me just say here that last year was the first year I was introduced to the concept of driving home six boys from mishmar. It was an adjustment. If preschool carpool is the shallow end, mishmar carpool is the entire Atlantic Ocean. Let's just say that the Febreeze I keep in my car has come in handy. And I am lucky that I have suffered some hearing loss and, thus, haven't had to purchase earplugs.

I arrived home after that final carpool at 615. I had started driving at 315. Now, I have lost many brain cells over the years, but I am pretty sure this is three hours. If I had just started driving in one direction on a highway or two, instead of carpooling, I could have been visiting my in-laws. Or been in a well-known gambling location. Or the beach. That was a long afternoon.

However, there are those driving moments when things seem a little brighter. This week, I drove for Gorby's four-year-old preschool class field trip. It was sort of like carpooling because it involved picking up children from one location, taking them to a second location, doing an activity, then taking them back to the preschool (aka, driving in circles). I picked up two little boys (one of them mine) and two little girls, and drove to their activity. We parked, and the boys jumped out and tore up the sidewalk to the waiting group. I got the two little adorable girls out of the minivan, and we meandered slowly up the sidewalk. One said, "I love your shoes." I looked down. They looked down. I was wearing one of my favorite pairs of black flats with the big silver buckle. "Oh, I love them too," I said. Then the other girl said, "I love your shoes and your clothes and your hair." I smiled. Now that is what I call carpooling.