Morning Icognito

7:25 a.m. and I just got back from taking Andrew to his first day of school. My baby is a Junior (suppose I should drop the "baby" at this point, then again, my "baby" brother is 43 and I still refer to him that way). Don't stop now, this is not going to be an ode to the first day of school; Staples said it best years ago, “most wonderful time of the year," and that sums it up for me. This post is about the 1 ½ mile drive there and back. It's a trip I don't normally take, only when Jeffrey leaves for work too early to drop him on the way, and today was one of those days.

The "mom commute" is a funny ride. The route is well traveled; all the cars (mostly SUV's at this point, minivans at the elementary school) are in drop-off mode, coming or going. A quick glance in the passing car windows identifies familiar faces, more nodding than waving in the morning; this excursion is traditionally done incognito. We are mostly in the same disguise; glasses, no make-up (in my case this won't change much later, but I'll wash my face), and whatever we throw on to get in the car (today's accompanying artwork is proof, true identity revealed). I have 2 uniforms for this trip, warm weather and cold weather. Today, and all drives until it gets cold, is sweatpants, flip-flops, tank top and a bra (I mention this part because not all moms include it in the a.m. wardrobe). I am reminded of the "clean underwear in a car accident" warning; in my opinion, if I get in a fender bender on the way to or from school, I want to have a bra on when the officer arrives (especially if the violation is my fault and then I'll need all the "support" I can get). He will have to overlook the morning breath (brushing happens after the coffee) and my glasses, but my best defense(s) against a ticket requires an undergarment. And g-d forbid a hospital or police station is involved; I will not be braless on a gurney or in a mug shot. The cold weather version is the same thing, substitute Uggs for footwear and add a NorthFace (which does not eliminate the need for you know what). Anyway, back to the carpool of one. There's an accepted 2-second rule in morning suburbia; I see you, don't look at me and I won't look at you, and we won't acknowledge this later after we've showered. The riskier moms have flannel peeking out of their winter jackets, pretty clear they are assuming they will not have to get out of their vehicle, a gamble I'm not willing to take (nor do I own flannel sleepwear). I also avoid this "coat covers all" option because I have a distinct visual of my mom in a raincoat over a nightgown and I want to spare my children the potential embarrassment (the phone will ring tonight denying this ever happened). Corporate mom will cruise by already showered, brushed and suited up; does her expression convey disgust for my lazy morning or jealousy that she's not on my schedule? The Dad's I pass are always work ready, shirts and ties still morning crisp, deep in thought, no conversation with the teenage passenger. Poor Andrew, Jeffrey is the dad exception; he is chatty, chipper dad. I usually respect the silent ride rule, if I ask him a question I will accept a grunted answer, Jeffrey requires a multi-syllabic response.

Arrival at school offers its own unique scenery. Students appear to share two closets; all girls are in tanks (no comment on their undergarments because the straps are clearly part of the look), shorts and flip-flops, long hair (parted on the side - middle, I am told, is not in). Boys in khaki shorts with polos or T’s, and $100 sneakers, hair mostly short and neat (except the lucky few with J.Crew hair). Both groups will stay in summer clothes until the first snowfall, although the girls may add knee-high Uggs when their legs get cold (keeping the shorts). The older kids cruise through the side streets in their own cars; stop signs and mom vehicles are mostly ignored. They speed into the parking lot, find their friends, and slowly stroll to class. Even as the last bell is ringing, no one is in a great rush. I do enjoy the kids who dare to be different; pink haired artsy types, brooding Emo rockers, and wannabe rappers add flair and individuality to the suburban landscape. My 1980 diploma is from this same school; 31 years ago we did not a have a Jewish Student Union, a Gay/Straight Alliance, a Human Rights Coalition or an Environmental Awareness Club. Looks like today's High Schoolers can be whoever they want to be, and find a kindred spirit among their classmates. Schools set the tone for acceptance and I am proud that my alma mater apparently encourages self-discovery. I pull around the front loop past a steady stream of teenagers, Andrew exits (no goodbye kisses after 5th grade),he's wearing Khaki shorts,a T-shirt and $100 sneakers.

I only get to do this drive for a few more months and then Andrew will take himself to school (of course he will observe all road signs and drive slowly into the parking lot). Going forward, I will not leave the house until I have showered, brushed my teeth and put my contacts in. I will relinquish my position in the SUV parade to school and Andrew can talk to himself in the car, or not.