I used to sit in traffic like the rest of America and slowly lose my patience by each painfully slow mile. Then I joined the stay at home mom club where I didn’t have to combat traffic. But I’m certain this is why when I watch KRON 4 covering the morning drive, I cringe while not-so-fondly remembering how my car would crawl on highway 680. I dreaded certain freeway junctions during the commute hours. I developed a frustration towards drivers that were driving recklessly, too slow, or too fast. In the past, I was a danger to myself because my road rage consumed me. Once I had children, I realized that you can’t be a driver with road rage as a parent because you’re also endangering your children.
My commute wasn’t terrible – the drivers were
My commute was never more than an hour, but I still found myself hot from the drive. If rain was in the forecast, you could forget about it. I was certain to open my book of foul words. Cursing, Cussing, Potty Talk, whatever you call it – I did it and I did it well. I came up with some solid material for a very raunchy stand up comedy show.
Oh, how things have changed since bearing my children. I went from shouting profanities (that were oh, so clever) to sounding like two kids bickering in a 80’s sitcom. “Oh, now come on Bozo. Move along, Blockhead!” I’m still name-calling (which my kids remind me), but in a G-rated form. To my credit, my cursing was in ridiculously good context.
I looked into getting an “upgraded” car horn installed
Yeah, I was the person who inappropriately used their car horn as a form of harassment. As I got closer to home, I was excited to hit two green lights in a row. But if I got blocked in a busy intersection by cars turning, which hindered me from catching the green light? My horn got some good use. I was a major pain and used to lay on my horn for the driver who blocked me (this indicates anger problems, I imagine). These days, I barely ever use my horn. Except to call my kids into the van from my driveway.
A game of cat and mouse
Like in the game of sibling bickering (“He started it!” “No, she did!”), if a driver was aggressive with me – game on. A driver speeding up and then slamming on their brakes was one of my pet-peeves. However, this didn’t stop me from doing it when provoked by another driver. I participated in physical road rage, which was the most dangerous for me and all drivers near me. My behavior could have resulted in an accident or even worse, death. I regret getting so frustrated, and quite frankly, I believe I was a bully on the road.
Road rage no more!
Now that I’m carrying the most precious cargo, I bite my tongue. I seldom use my horn, I get in the slow lane if I’m driving slowly, and I wouldn’t dare play cat and mouse. My road rage is currently on hiatus, but I don’t know how long that will last. Maybe after I leave the SAHM club and venture back into the world of early morning commuting, I’ll transform into a sailor (potty talk). But for now, I refrain from using profane language and giggle when I call some driver an “ace”. And this is all for the best.