Chances are, whether you’ve known me for years or just a few months, you’ve never witnessed my anger. You might have seen me tear up from my past experiences, but true rage? That’s a rare sight. Most of the time, my frustration stays bottled up inside. I’m generally soft-spoken and calm, managing to take life’s challenges in stride. In fact, I can count the instances when I’ve lost my temper in public over the past decade on one hand. One moment was in the emergency room at 3 a.m. when I snapped at a young doctor who was just trying to do his job. I regret that outburst, but I was reeling from the news that my husband’s brain cancer had worsened, and my son had called, devastated that I might miss his birthday. Another time, I lashed out at a contractor who overcharged me shortly after my husband’s funeral. I don’t feel bad about that one, but I was still grieving, and the details are a bit hazy.
But when it comes to the morning car line at elementary school? That’s a whole different story. I transform into a rage monster. Picture me ranting and raving, throwing my hands up in frustration, and rolling my eyes at every slow-moving parent. I’m not proud of my behavior, and thankfully, I keep my windows rolled up to contain the chaos.
I can’t justify my anger. I just feel a deep-seated fury toward parents who ignore the simple rules: pull up to the curb, stay in your vehicle, and let your child get out. Teachers are there to assist younger kids with heavy backpacks, and parents are reminded to keep their cars running smoothly. Yet, some parents seem to think the rules don’t apply to them.
The car line is meant to flow—a drop-and-go system. When that flow is disrupted, my patience evaporates.
My mornings are meticulously planned. I need to drop off my elementary schooler, then my middle schooler, and finally head to work. Every extra second spent in the car line eats into my already tight schedule. Sure, I could leave a bit earlier to allow for delays, but somehow, these rule-breakers always seem to appear, no matter when I arrive. And waking up my tween and middle schooler earlier? That’s a battle I’m not ready to fight. They deserve their sleep, just as much as I need to keep my schedule on track.
I need to take a deep breath because my rage is bubbling up again. I truly don’t want to start my mornings feeling this way. My kids find it amusing to see their usually calm mom turn into a fury as we sit behind the slow-moving parent chatting with the assistant. I want to instill values of patience and grace in them, not the opposite. But I’m human, and maybe there’s a lesson in this too—a “follow the rules or you’ll see a different side of me” kind of lesson.
I know some kids genuinely require extra help getting out of the car, and I empathize with those parents who have their own packed mornings. I understand that we’re all navigating our own challenges. However, I can’t help but feel the frustration build inside me, making it hard to keep my cool.
So, yes, I’ll give you your time, but please, let me have my rage. I promise not to let it overflow beyond the car line. Just let’s keep things moving, shall we?
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In summary, while I strive to be patient, the school car line brings out an unexpected side of me. I want to teach my kids the importance of patience and grace, even in frustrating situations. We’re all trying our best, but sometimes, the rules need to be followed for everyone’s benefit.