Every year when the “Back to School” sales begin, I start getting nostalgic for the good old days when my kids were young. Now my back to school news comes from grandchildren. All six are now back in some kind of school and their activities include band practice, going out for football and starting art and music lessons. Two of the youngest just spent their last days of vacation organizing and reorganizing brand new backpacks until each pencil slid into the proper slot and notepads lined up straight. Two sets of parents are already numb from puzzling out two sets of schedules with both parents working and three kids in each family. All of them (including the 18-month-old who is currently concentrating on socialization with other toddlers) have agendas of their own.
My nostalgia fades when I move onto memories of the results of these goings on – carpooling. My most vivid memory of this family intra-curricular activity is when I had three kids each with different activities in three different schools plus our special needs son who was at that time without a classroom opportunity. To support all these efforts I was in eight car pools. Eight! My husband couldn’t believe how I got into such a situation.
It was easy. I didn’t work outside the home and we had a big station wagon, making me a prime target. My stay-at-home son played and napped in a porta-crib in the wagon’s nether regions and in front I presided over a large basket stuffed with my own activities. When I wasn’t driving, I spent copious amount of time “on hold” in parking lots and pick up lines, I wrote letters, paid bills, read books, played with my son and ate lunch. In between I picked up and delivered dozens of kids to dozens of locations.
One day Jim sat me down, declaring “This is ridiculous. You spend far too much time frittering around in that station wagon. We’re going to slash those carpools in half. Give me your list!”
Okay, so he didn’t say frittering, but that’s basically what he meant. After an unproductive hour of “slashing,” he admitted defeat, and also admitted he didn’t know how I’d kept it down to eight! There was no public transportation. Our kids were old enough to be active but not old enough to drive. The solution was obvious. Me.
As our children grew up and more opportunities and options became available for them all, I joined the work force. My youngest was in junior high, had bus transportation and was old enough to stay alone for awhile.  It was when I began adding my own schedule, which often included night work, to the mix and tried to keep everything – and everybody on tract, that I gained a real respect for working mothers – at home or out at jobs – especially those in carpools. By this time my oldest kids could move about pretty independently, but I well understood the dilemma these (mostly) women faced everyday.
With school starting and one of the busiest seasons of the year gearing up, let’s remember to give these carpooling parents an extra pat on the back. They help make lots of young dreams possible and deserve miles of praise.