A few months ago, we played a game at work where you had to pick a song from the year you were born, another from the year you graduated high school and a third one that you would characterize as your “life theme” song. For my h.s. graduation year (’92), I chose Tom Cochrane’s hit, “Life is a Highway.” Well, I’ve had that song in my head all day and thought of a few analogies about it that seemed fitting to share.

Life is a highway, but that doesn’t mean you’ll always be going 70mph. Sometimes, you go through podunk speed-trap towns or encounter construction zones that force you to slow down, whether you want to or not.

If you take the wrong exit or turn the wrong way, you can’t always retrace your steps exactly, but if you patiently persist, you can eventually find your way back to the highway.

Periodically, you go through a “dead zone” where there isn’t a decent radio station to be found. Silence can be bliss.

On a nice day, you can set the cruise control and coast down the road. Other times, you have to grip the steering wheel with white knuckles to keep from hydroplaning on the wet asphalt.

At some point, you have to stop and refuel. Running on fumes is neither fun nor safe.

Sometimes you just have to crank up the tunes and drown out the road noise.

There are obstacles on the road, but if the alternative is to sit in the driveway and let your tires dry-rot, isn’t it worth the risk to get out there & drive?

Every parent’s nightmare is losing your child in a crowded place. Numerous scary scenarios have run through my head over the years, but I never expected to misplace a child while standing in line together …

When we arrived at Six Flags on Saturday morning, we immediately designated a meeting place to rendezvous if we got separated, and I read the riot act to the boys about wandering off alone, who to ask for help, etc. The day was going along great – the weather wasn’t too hot, and the crowd was quite manageable.

After lunch, we ventured to the outskirts of the park to ride Judge Roy Scream. All three boys wanted to ride it, and the little one was just barely tall enough to ride. He wanted to ride with his oldest brother. So, we got to the front of the line and split into three groups: dad by himself, the middle one & me, and the oldest & littlest one together. The gates opened, and we filed into our seats, buckled up and dashed away on the roller coaster. When we got back to the starting point, three of us got off the coaster and began looking for the other two. They were nowhere to be found! Dad and #2 headed down the exit ramp toward the tunnel, thinking perhaps they had run ahead of us. I stayed behind, scouring the crowd and wondering how in the world we could have gotten separated.

Years or moments later, the other train came barreling down the track toward the exit. There they were – having a grand ol’ time and begging to ride again! The oldest explained to me that when the gates opened, someone cut in front of them, and since the rest of us were a couple of cars ahead, we hadn’t seen the incident. They had to wait for the next train.

I commended my oldest for not panicking and handling the situation well. He did what he thought he should do: stay in line and keep his little brother with him at all times.  If I thought my stomach dropped during the Superman ride, it was nothing compared to those few moments! I knew they couldn’t have just vanished into thin air … what a relief.

My son and I were in the car together last night, and he asked me out of the blue: “Who are you voting for, Mommy?” The conversation that transpired made me think of all the banter in the news lately and how I wish that if an almost-9-year-old can dig it, why can’t everyone else?

Me: “I’m voting for McCain.”
Him: “Why?”
Me: “Because I think he’s the best choice to lead our country, and I don’t think Obama is.”
Him: “Ebenezer thinks so.” (Ebenezer is a friend from school.)
Me: “Yeah, some people do, but I think he’s making promises that he isn’t going to be able to keep.”
Him: “Like what?”
Me: “Well, sometimes, when people run for office, they tell you what you want to hear to make them look good. They offer things that they aren’t going to be able to give you. For instance, if someone said that you won’t have to pay when you go to the doctor, that would sound really great, huh?”
Him: “Yeah.”
Me: “Well, doctors don’t work for free, do they? Someone has to pay, so if the patient doesn’t pay, who will pay?”
Him: “Other people.”
Me: “That’s right – we’ll all have to pay more in taxes.”
Him: “Ahhh.” (light bulb moment!) 🙂