1. denoting an outstanding or supreme example of a particular kind of person or thing.
Uber isn’t such a new idea you know. Mothers have been driving long Uber shifts for years, we just didn’t know what to call it. I’m guessing the founders of Uber, the popular ride sharing phenomenon, thought something like, “I’m tired of trying to hail a cab, riding public transportation, or driving myself like an adult. I wish I could still just call my mommy at a moment’s notice, day or night, tell her what corner I’m on and she could just take me everywhere like back in the good old days! I should text her. Hey. Wait…a….minute…!”
I’m telling you, it’s no coincidence the upstart chose to name their company the one adjective that perfectly describes their very first chauffeurs.
Uber. Outstanding. Supreme? Arguably.
Here’s a day in the life of this Uber Mom, no joke:
7:40am. Let’s go, let’s go, out the door to junior high. Do you have your instrument? Do I need to sign anything? Who are we picking up? Round up, drop off, back home to make two more lunches. 8am, piano lesson. Do you have your books? 8:30am, time to meet the elementary school walking group. What? It’s raining? Too cold and wet to walk? Load ’em up. To the school and back home again, feed the littles, throw something in the crockpot, and dress for the day. 10am, gas up and run errands. Baby falls asleep on the way home, but won’t make the transfer to his crib. Shoot. 12pm, lunch on the table. 12:30pm the afternoon kindergarten carpool begins. Round up, drop off, back home again. 1:15pm back to the school to get another child to the orthodontist by 1:30. Tick- tock. Rain’s cleared, but there’s construction. Detour. Baby threw up. Projectile. MOM! Gross. Arrive at orthodontist at 1:45 for the 1:30 appointment. We are too late, doctor can’t see us, we must reschedule. Wait, what?? Back to school. Race home to change baby and hose down soiled car seat. 2:20pm, hustle back to the elementary school so the 8 year old is not late for piano at 2:30pm. 3pm, jr. high carpool pick up. Can my other friends get a ride too? Front door service for six. 3:30pm, Webelos and another piano lesson. Someone is early. Someone is late. Three year old tired of NPR, wants to listen to HIS music. 4pm, wolf den meeting. 4:15pm, off to the pool for swim team, 4:45pm, leave for tumbling all the way across town. 5pm den meeting pick up. Running late. Can another uber mom please Uber him home? 5:15pm, take the teenager to football practice. 5:30pm, flag football game for the 8 and 10 year olds with coach Dad. What’s that? He’s stuck in traffic. Can I take the boys over to the game and get it started? Ok. Down, set, HIKE? 6pm, tumbling pick up and swim team pickup. Someone waits way too long. “See, that’s-why-I-need-a-phone” conversion takes us up to dinner. Thank goodness for slow cookers. Help with homework, music practice, dishes. Back down the hill at 7:20 to pick up from football practice. 7:45pm, home again, home again jiggity jig.
Whew! I defy any paid Uber driver to log those kind of miles, milestones, or enjoy the ride as much as me.
Not a single Paypal invoice is sent, not a credit card swiped, and all the cash handed over the threshold of the driver’s side window goes OUT.
What’s more, they don’t make fuel efficient 12 passenger vans, so I’m really in the red on this deal. But that’s what makes moms so uber. They have vision. They see their clients as long term investments.
Meaning, in about 40 years, when all seven of my favorite ride-alongs band together and resolve to strip away my driver’s license, I fully expect to be chauffeured around in style. Moment’s notice, too. Day or night. Rain or shine. They’ll be just a text away!