Ah yes, the child who hates being in the car. I know I am not alone — many of you have experienced vehicular wrath in the worst form. If you’ve never had a child who hates being in the car (oh how I envy you), let me just tell you it’s pure TORTURE. First of all, you can’t reach them to console them. Secondly, you’re driving a moving vehicle and have to, ya know, drive. Thirdly, you can’t get away from the screams (due to the whole moving vehicle thing). If you have other children in tow, they’ll eventually start crying too either due to being awoken by the initial crier or they can’t take it anymore or they just want to get in on the Seventh Circle of Hell to see what all the fuss is about. Then it’s like a Satanic screaming symphony in your backseat. Magic.
My baby is truly the happiest little butterball I’ve ever seen … until we must travel by automobile. Then she becomes a shrieking, sweaty, inconsolable banshee. Who can drive in that state?! I know I become more reckless when she’s having a full-blown fit. No right turn on red? ARE YOU KIDDING ME? I HAVE TO REACH MY DESTINATION AND GET OUT OF THIS VEHICLE!! I’ve tried all the tricks to ease her woes. Nothing has worked. And as miserable as I am, I know SHE is even more miserable, which perhaps is the worst part. She can’t tell me what’s wrong, so I can’t fix it. The worst.
So instead of riding with my car-hating babe, here is a list of things I would rather do with open arms:
Listen to Caillou’s incessant whining for hours on end.
Have a major wardrobe malfunction while nursing in public. Like full on areola.
Stumble to the bathroom at 3am and step on an F-16 Micromachine on the way there. Resulting curse words wake the baby.
Go all day long without a sip of coffee, y’all.
Finally get those clean sheets on the king-sized bed (horror in itself), only for the baby to vomit all over them.
Alongside the tiny Elsa that inhabits my home, make my recurring role as Anna permanent with no break in character, ever. Let the storm rage on.
Have to get out of the car when my current “look” is a roll-the-windows-down-only kind of look.
Clean dried Play-doh stuck between tile grout.
Take a picture of my kid while in her car seat and post it in a few dozen carseat groups on Facebook. Y’all know what I’m talking about.
Grant my toddler her wish and allow her to eat fruit snacks for every meal.
All the laundry. All day everyday.
And lastly …
I would rather never leave the house again! But unfortunately for everyone within earshot, most days WE HAVE TO. So until you outgrow this little phase my darling love (please let it be soon), we will both cry when mommy is behind the wheel.