The DMV

Since we were spending some time in the city this summer, we told Jme that we’d take her to get her driver’s permit. She’s fourteen, and what fourteen year old wouldn’t be excited about that, right? So we went by the DMV on Friday to pick up a study guide and planned to return to take the test on Monday.

It was delightful to see her and Wifey studying together over the weekend. And to see her getting every question right. We talked about driving laws all weekend, and quizzed her about traffic signs and situations as we drove around town. It was good to see her being successful, and I knew – and I told her – that she’d rock this test. She was obviously excited.

So today was the big day. We got up early so that she and I could go to the DMV and have her take the test for her learner’s permit. But even as she came down the stairs for the first time that morning, I could tell she was not in a good place in her head. She was quiet and sullen. She reeked of foul mood. I chalked it up to being early in the day and kept a steady course forward.

When we arrived at the DMV there was, of course, a long line. She immediately went over to a chair and flopped down. I (as cheerily as I could) told her it was her license, she should stand in line for herself. She loved that. She made the comment while waiting that she was going to fail because she was a loser. I of course told her she was going to pass because she had worked hard and was prepared. She was eventually given a number and assigned a computer kiosk to take the test. I watched from across the room and sent her all of the “you can do it!” vibes I could muster. I’m understanding more and more about what it means to be a parent wanting your kids to succeed.

When it was over, she said that she’d failed. She’d missed the first five questions in a row, at which point the computerized test ended. I was surprised (and in retrospect, not so surprised) that she didn’t pass. But not passing is not a big deal. I failed my test the first time. I tried to talk to her in the car on the way home. I asked her if she remember what the test had asked about. She said that one question asked her what a stop sign meant. She said she read the choices too fast and got it wrong. I knew that wasn’t the case.

When we got home, she grabbed her computer and disappeared up the stairs and into her room. I figured we’d give her some space, so the boys and I went outside to play. Stephanie eventually talked to her and (after a prolonged guessing game) finally got the story: Jme felt that it should be her dad taking her to get her driver’s permit, and she was mad at him for not being there now. Mad enough to fail on purpose, just to show him. Just as she had done in school all year.

We’re back in the bush today, and the bush has it’s own set of challenges, but that will have to wait until the next post.