How a travel mug turned into a parenting tool.
The Precarious Morning Drive
The morning drive to school can be precarious. One moment can be all laughs; the next moment, a black cloud takes over the car.
I am unsure what it is about me; for some inexplicable reason, I feel the need to push my luck.
I like to know how my kids are doing in class from their perspective. If there is something I can help them with, I want to do it. Likewise, I want to celebrate small and large successes.
Unfortunately, the information my sons choose to give about their school day starts to degrade after 1st grade. Each year after that, the feeling of tiptoeing through a minefield worsens. It is not limited to obvious things like subjects or assignments. It could be the car temperature, the weather, or the eggshell-walking tone of my voice interpreted by my child as mad, disapproving, or akin to the inquisition.
Coffee as a Cover
It is why I always have a travel mug of coffee. I have learned to take strategic sips.
It is amazing what those extra seconds can avoid. It can also be enough time to rethink the wording of a question or to let it go altogether. It can also be a cover for facial expressions.
Of course, the mornings the coffee is too acidic, too hot, or I am running too late to get any, the morning drive can go sideways fast. However, sometimes even on a sunny morning, with a great cup of coffee, things can go wrong, but once in a while, it conspires to create a timely recovery.
One Conversation, Two Lights, a Left Turn, and Three Blocks
Take last week:
In my best attempt at a non-inquisition voice, I ask, “How is the long division going for you?”
“Are you still finding it easy?”
“Yes.” A confident, proud voice from the backseat responds. The conversation continues with excited descriptions of solved math problems and the stories of helping others.
Stupidly emboldened by the positive response, I ask about his favorite subject, creative writing.
Silence.
I check my mirror to see a head turned to look out the window. An intake of breath followed by a deep sigh comes from the backseat.
Recognizing the precarious position, I, too, take a deep breath, a sip of coffee, and wait.
“Mr. Teacher* divided up our composition books into three sections. He writes in the first two sections…” The voice stops, looking to put words to feelings.
Taking a chance, I toss out, “As we do sometimes when we make up stories together?”
A combination of huffs and snorts emanate from the backseat. I glance back; I am met with his infamous side-eye. I can see the battle of emotions over words taking place. The weighing of pros and cons to share his true thoughts.
I attempt humor. “Do you feel like you are doing your teacher’s homework?”
A “yes” bursts out, backed by the perturbed disgust of an artist. “I don’t want to finish his ideas; I want to write about my own!”
I struck gold! To stay quiet, I take a large sip of coffee.
The budding writer raged at the indignities perpetrated on his creative process for the next two lights, a left turn, and three more blocks until I stopped the car at the school’s curb.
A Shared Smile at the Curb
As he exited the car, I caught his eye, smiled, and in an attempt to lighten his mood said, “Try not to do all your teacher’s homework for him.”
His whole face lit up in a conspiratorial smile, erupting into laughter.
The black cloud over his head was gone as he ran to catch up with his friends.
The Parenting Win That Needed No Words
I sat there for a moment, the engine humming, holding my travel mug like a victory flag. Then I called my husband, needing to share the quiet win.“Great coffee this morning,” I told him. “Saved the morning.”Because some days, the recovery means just as much as the perfect response. Maybe even more.That’s the power of the coffee mug: it buys me time, gives him space, and—most importantly—it keeps me quiet.
This post isn’t sponsored, but if Yeti ever wants to talk, I’ve got stories. And sip timing down to a science.
Got your own version of the coffee mug moment? I’d love to hear it.
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