Handling errands for my mother? Easy. Carpooling five friends? No sweat. Late-night drives from college to grab some late-night chow fun? Who can resist beef chow fun at 3 a.m.? When I originally moved to Manhattan, I kept my car, carefully switching sides to avoid tickets and potential break-ins. Whether it was rain, snow, or sunshine, weekend road trips for apple picking or picking up friends were always on the agenda. What’s a minor fender bender when there’s a concert across state lines to attend?
But then came my move to the suburbs. A place where you drive to reach the mailbox, where even a trip to the gym means getting into the car to walk on a treadmill. A cup of sugar from next door? Not anymore; it’s now a ten-minute drive to the store. Suddenly, the mileage on your car—and perhaps your life—adds up quickly.
Initially, the tree-lined streets and speed bumps appeared picturesque. But after traversing that same bump multiple times daily—to pick up kids, take them to school, drop them off at soccer—you start to feel the grind.
“Dad, can you pick me up at 5 from practice, then drop Julie off? Oh, and I need some index cards from Staples. Can we grab Panera for dinner? I’m craving the Frontega Chicken.”
“Dad, after you get me from Main Street, can you take me to Lisa’s house, and then come back in two hours so we can head to the gym? Is it okay if Deanna joins us at the gym? She’ll be waiting in her driveway.”
“Dad, I left my sweater at Lindsey’s house. Can you swing by and grab it on your way back from Home Depot? Also, since Mom is making salmon for dinner, can you pick up some food from Panera? You know I can’t stand salmon. Love you, Daddy.”
Wait, what?
A never-ending cycle of driving… and that’s just one child. Multiply that by two, three, or four kids, and you have parents waving to each other from different ends of the street. Forget about quality time on the couch—Mom and Dad are now road warriors, battling the elements and the challenges of aging for their ever-demanding teenagers.
I take pride in being a good father, but when did I become Uber Dad? Did I unknowingly sign a contract when my kids were born? Was it a lifetime commitment to be just a text away? Always in overdrive, shuttling my children from place to place, providing complimentary door-to-door service for my teen passengers.
Uber Dad? More like Uber Schmuck. (Let’s think positively… Uber Mensch.)
In a world where music, information, and conversations are constantly at their fingertips, why wouldn’t kids have Mom and Dad on speed dial? Instant gratification means I can be there in moments. Forget conference calls; you can handle those from the driver’s seat as you race to pick up school kids. It’s multitasking at its finest for suburban families.
I recognize that I created this situation. I chose to raise my children where sidewalks are scarce, yearning for trees, grass, and fresh air. However, in my quest for a peaceful life, I ended up at the gas pump more often. I’ve led my kids to believe that every journey begins and ends at home, and no distance is too great. Weekend sports tournaments? Just a quick hop on the highway. Movie nights? Parents can easily stream their shows on Netflix.
It’s a constant balancing act: which parents are dropping off and which are picking up? Instead of engaging in banter with lifelong friends over sushi, you find yourself negotiating logistics with other parents. Dylan’s dad seems to occupy more of your time than your own dad.
And don’t even get me started on those parents who seem to make a quick getaway whenever it’s their turn in the suburban carpool. They discreetly drop their kids off at your place without a word or glance, eager to rush off to the local wine bar.
“Haley’s mom can’t drive.” “Haley’s dad is out of town.” “Haley’s nanny doesn’t work on Wednesdays.”
Why should they be available? Especially when Uber Dad is on the way.
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In summary, transitioning to suburban life often leads to an unexpected role as a constant chauffeur for your children. The idyllic setting can quickly become a whirlwind of driving and juggling schedules, leaving little time for relaxation or intimacy.