Something was different. I did a double-take in the mirror. Was that really my rear end? Somehow, it looked different. It wasn’t necessarily bigger, but the weight looked redistributed… kind of flattened out and spread to the sides.
I hadn’t gained any significant weight, and I run regularly, so what was up? Then it hit me: It’s all those hours I sit on my derriere as I drive my kids here and there to after-school activities, sports games and everywhere.
Racking up the miles
I can’t really tell you when it was that I realized I’d spent 24 hours driving my kids around in one week — the equivalent of an entire day spent in the driver’s seat of my Toyota Highlander. Because, honestly, it really wasn’t that out of the norm. In fact, 24 hours a week is pretty much the norm for me. No wonder my rear end is spreading like a marshmallow in a s’more!
There are two schools to which my two children must be driven, and one route alone can take an hour or more round trip, depending on traffic. Then there’s tennis (two days a week) and crew practice (four days a week) for my son, and dance (at least two days a week ) for my daughter, plus play practice, basketball, tumbling and Odyssey of the Mind. Throw in some playdates, doctor appointments and some God-awful traffic, and it’s no surprise I can rack up 24 hours in the car.
I absolutely recognize this is based on choices we’ve made — private schools without bus service, allowing our kids to participate in numerous activities and even where we’ve chosen to live. We could certainly limit their activities, move or put them on the bus to the public school. But those aren’t choices we’re willing to make. And we’ve encouraged them to participate in many of these activities to keep them active and set healthy habits.
So, I drive… and drive.
The roads are packed with parents
I’m not alone either. An informal survey of friends in my area found that many of them are out there on the roads for at least 24 hours each week, too. One friend says she clocks 35 hours a week between three of her children. It sounds absolutely ludicrous, but there we are. Sure, there are carpools, but when you’re juggling multiple children’s schedules, the logistics of carpooling can be even more exhausting than driving.
While our suburban, traffic-plagued area outside Orlando may have something to do with it, statistics show that across the country, parents are putting in a significant number of hours in the car. A 2017 study found that 13 percent of parents spend more than 10 hours a week driving their kids around to various activities. Throw in time spent figuring out all the logistics involved, and it’s the equivalent of a part-time job, er, volunteer position.
Our bodies, our cars
It can’t be good for our health (not to mention the environment), either. We’ve seen countless studies on the dangers of sitting too long. Experts say it can affect everything from our blood pressure to our blood sugar and our weight and even may increase the risk of cancer and heart disease. It’s scary stuff, but the good news is that as long as you increase your exercise (60-75 minutes a day), you can overcome those effects. Of course, no one says how we’re supposed to find the extra time to exercise when we’re spending it all in our car.
If only someone would invent a modern-day Fred Flintstone-type car where our legs had to do some of the work to power the car. In the meantime, it’s caffeine in my cup holder and a carefully honed podcast playlist that keeps me going.
There is a bright side
As much as I complain about all the driving, I also secretly treasure that time in the car with my children.
Some days, my teenage son’s earbuds go in immediately, and I turn up the radio and give him his space. Other days, the earbuds stay in his backpack, and I get questions, concerns and a glimpse into his world. When my daughter throws her backpack into the car in a huff, she broods silently in the back seat for a while about whatever fourth-grade injustice happened that day, but after a few miles, she starts to unload. Some days, we sing together, laugh and tell jokes. Some days we cry.
When they’re with me in the car, they can’t run off to their room or head out the door to a friend’s house just yet. They’re seatbelted in, and it’s just us, with no distractions and many miles to try to figure it all out.
My son is 15 with a driver’s permit in hand, and soon he won’t need me to be his chauffeur. A year after that, my daughter may go to the same school as he does, and he’ll be able to drive them both. The day will come all too soon when I stand in my driveway, waving goodbye as they drive off without me, and I have no one that needs to be driven anywhere.
That will probably be a whole lot better for my derriere, but my heart… that will be a different story.
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