"You've got to move it! Move it!"

It is cold today in South Dakota. Actually, I don’t think cold even begins to cover it, because I talked to my cousin in Austin this afternoon and she says it’s cold there. Uhm, yeah, it’s 40 degrees in Austin. With the wind chill factored in, we are somewhere in the vicinity of 60 degrees colder than that. At this point, 40 would feel like beach weather. So, like I said, cold doesn’t even cover it. We need a new word. Saying it’s cold is like saying you’re tired when you’re pregnant. There’s tired and then there’s T-I-R-E-D and today, in South Dakota it is C-O-L-D. It is lose the feelings in your fingers and toes cold. It is “Praise Jesus I don’t have to work outside,” cold. It is, for the life of me I will never understand why anyone ever, ever, ever chose to settle here, cold.


And because it’s cold, our little neighborhood school of mostly walkers has been overtaken by car-pooling moms. Now, as a newbie to the whole car-pool thing, I will say that it took me a couple of weeks to get the hang of it. There are places you can park and places you can most certainly NOT park. There are places where your children can walk, and again, places where they most certainly cannot walk. And don’t even get me started on bicycles. There are rules. There are procedures. There is a certain car-pool etiquette to follow and social norms that are expected and while there are a lot of them, they aren’t too hard to learn. In fact, most of us get along quite well. But with the influx of cold-weather poolers this week, I think there are a few Moms (and I’m sure Dads) who need a review. This morning, a mom actually cut through the parking lot, in order to bypass all the car-pool traffic which goes around to the side, then cut in front of the line, drove through a cross walk and firmly planted herself next to the curb. Are you kidding me? Who does that? It looked like an episode of Law and Order when there just happens to be one parallel parking spot available and the cops swoop in and take it. Only she wasn’t a cop and it wasn’t a parking spot. I sooo wanted to honk at her, but we live in South Dakota. They don’t really do horns in South Dakota. Other women are talking on their phones, parking in the drop-off lane and going in with their children, and even creating their own car-pool lines, blocking the rest of us in. I know you must be thinking, boy she really needs some sleep because who gets this worked up over car-pool lines, but I think I’m worked up because as I looked around this morning, in addition to wanting to honk, I wanted to yell, “Our children are watching us!” This morning, my son learned that if he’s late and cold and wanting to get into school, all he has to do is cut in line. Kids aren’t born knowing how to push and shove their way into this world. We teach them.

So, it begs the question, what else do we teach them? Just random brainstorming here….we teach them to lie (even if it is little and white,) when they hear us do it. We teach them to break the rules when we’re too busy to respect them. We teach them to eat in front of the t.v. (What? Is that just me? I’m sorry, but my son quit napping at 2 ½. I was pregnant; sick and miserable. A couple of packages of fruit chews and an episode of Barney meant Momma got a nap!) We are teaching them to be impatient when we sing “You’ve got to move it, move it!” while waiting in line at McDonalds. (What? Is that just me too?) We teach them to be racist when we act suspicious around people of a different race or color. We teach them to say, “In a minute,” when we constantly answer them with, “In a minute!” Make no mistake, we are always teaching them. They are always watching; always listening. They are always learning.

It’s going to be cold again tomorrow, which I guess makes sense since it’s January. The car-pool invaders will be back and there will be someone who thinks she’s above the rules and no doubt, she’ll shove and push until her darling baby is safe and warm inside the school halls. I’ll be there wanting to yell sarcastic comments and wanting to honk, but I won’t. After all, there will be two students in my car who are watching and learning (and perhaps singing along with a few famous animals from Madigascar.)