Heat Wave and Prayers and Driving

Seattle has just had two of the hottest days ever recorded, and I don't have central air conditioning. I have a portable AC to cool off my bedroom, which is helpful but not sufficient. At 4:00 a.m., the temp in my townhouse was 83 degrees. I am sitting in my living room with all of the doors open to the cool night air and the temp has dropped to 76 degrees in fifteen minutes, hopefully making it bearable inside for tomorrow later today. Opening the doors and windows at night is my work-around, and it works well enough, except for being awake at 4:00 a.m. when I have a presentation at work at 9:00.

So Pedro is living with me after being "sent away" for two years. I feel my old anxiety creeping back, hoping that he is okay. Prayer and mediation is part of my recovery program, so last night I decided to pray. Technically, we are only supposed to pray to know our higher power's will for us. Instead, I made a laundry list of what I wanted. Pedro starts his first job this week and will apply for his drivers license, both which cause my anxiety to rise. I swear to god that parenting a young adult is the most stressful phase of parenting ever. He is off on his own to work, to drive and then to live.

So I prayed last night, "Please don't let anything happen to the Boy."

Right?

Thankfully, my higher power/inner voice kicked in and said, "You can't be serious."

Please don't let anything happen to the Boy. That is the worst prayer ever. That is like asking for him to be sealed in wax and made into a statue and never leave my house. Just to sit there and let nothing happen. How boring and selfish. Maybe I could have asked to keep him safe from harm, that might have been better.

Better an even better prayer would have been "Please help me to chill the fuck out as my kid goes out into the real world."

Why am I worried? 

Because I am a mom.

Because he has been gone for two years and I have missed so much of his growth.

Because he drives like me.

Let's dig a little deeper into that last one, shall we?

I drive a high performance car, which I love. It is fast and it has great maneuverability and acceleration. The Boy sees me zipping in and out of lanes on the highway, passing people who dare to drive close to the speed limit. He swears at slow moving cars and drivers who make dumbass moves like making a left turn from the right lane. Just like me.

Oy.

So this weekend I was driving with Pedro and I decided to exhibit extreme amount of patience and serenity behind the wheel. I was on 520 behind a few cars and a FedEx truck going 45-50 mph. And I didn't pass the line of traffic. I patiently sat behind the slow moving vehicles. I didn't swear. I didn't fuss. I even said aloud that I was going to be patient.

And it paid off. The next time he drove, he drove like the improved me: calm, steady and not maxing out the capabilities of my car.

I need to revamp my prayers to be a better example to my son. Then maybe I could chill out.