Lessons from Flats

I have changed 5 tires in my life. It’s not something I wanted to do, but I’ve come to believe that every mom should change a tire at least once in her life for the sake of Other Lessons.

The first tire I changed as an adult was on a van on the side of a state highway. My full skirt whipped around my legs in the Texas spring wind as I stood reading the manual (yes, the “How to change a tire” section), holding it in one hand and holding the tire iron in the other. The wind was so loud and I was concentrating so hard, I didn’t hear the pickup pull in behind me.

“Uh, Ma’am, I think I can do that without readin’ about it,” a deep voice resonated behind me.

“Oh, I’m sure you can,” I smiled, and relinquished the tire iron to an older man in a plaid cowboy shirt and jeans.

The lesson: Never refuse help when it is offered.

I would change a tire again in a parking lot of my school. My son had walked from his campus to mine and we had discovered the flat together. At 8, he already had a sense of doing “guy stuff,” something that I was trying to help him balance to avoid a “macho” attitude, but when he insisted on loosening the lug nuts for me, I let him. Fifteen minutes later, he conceded defeat, and I showed him how I could balance on the tire iron, gripping the hood, and bounce until each nut loosened. It took us 45 minutes, and it took me a lot of waiting, but we changed the tire.

The lesson for me: Let a child try.
The lesson for us both: Be a problem solver.

My daughters were with my son and me for the next flat. We were 2 blocks from home, making a morning school/work run, and I pulled into a Seven Eleven parking lot. We all got out, each person took a “thing” from the trunk, and with some help from the man in the store (who I’m convinced popped out to watch the circus), took turns loosening, tightening, and lifting. We were all dirty and all a little mad, but we drove on the tiny spare to each school, dropping each person off with a great story and minutes to spare!

That lesson? When you have a team of helpers, use them.

My most recent change came 3 weeks ago. No one was home, my husband had walked 4 miles from our house and needed to be picked up from his walk, and I walked out to a flat tire. By this time, I had changed a tire on a jeep-like vehicle, a van, and a small car. An SUV was a new thing. I read the manual, located all the tools, lowered the tire, read the manual again, and was ready to proceed. I bounced the lug nuts loose (though this is harder to do the other you get, as my balance isn’t what it was!), but when it came to placing the jack, I couldn’t decide exactly how far under the body and past the running board. I used my cell to email my husband pictures, but he couldn’t see well enough to advise me. I picked up the manual again in desperation: “Place the jack below the…” It showed a picture of a diamond shape. I hadn’t read far enough. Twenty minutes later, I was doing my version of a touch down dance at having changed the tire.

On this one, I learned that you not only have to read, but you need to read to the end.

My very first experience, though, probably gave me the best lessons of all. The first tire I changed wasn’t even flat, but my mom was determined that if I had to, I would know how. She stood behind me while I griped and paced around an old two door four wheel drive International Scout. I don’t think they make those any more. My dad was letting me drive the old work vehicle to school and around town, but it was my mom who taught me both how to drive a stick and how to change a tire.

I was FURIOUS to have to take off and put back on a tire that didn’t need changing. I remember being so dirty, sweaty, angry, and tired that I didn’t feel any sense of accomplishment. I remember thinking, “I can just get my dad or some guy to do this.” My mom made me finish the task.

My lessons?

First, a memory of having accomplished something difficult frames your future endeavors and gives you courage to try.
Second, my mom could do anything!

Debbie Jay Williams married and a mother of a three, has travelled with her children, lived with them in England and Hawaii, helped them process her father’s and brother’s terminal illnesses, enjoyed sports, arts, pets, and life in general with them. She is currently relishing the title “Granma.” When she is not enjoying mom-related activities with her family, she teaches (and mothers) college students.