Can't Wait to Get off the Road Again
We’re back home after a short trip to see my parents. Actually staying with my parents was the short part; it was the drive there and back that lasted longer than an 18-inning Cubs game.
The traveling party the three children and me. Ellie had to work and missed the journey.* I used to frequently drive the 200 miles to see my parents without Ellie before the twins arrived. When Abbie was a newborn, I strapped her in her car seat, let her sleep, and remembered to stop for her regularly scheduled feeding because nothing short of a bathroom break would wake her from a car ride. Then I started planning her departure to coincide with naptime so that she would wake once we reached the destination. Then I developed the flexibility to reach back and hand her toys and food while driving to keep her content because her car ride nap times kept decreasing.
Today she apparently doesn’t sleep in the car, unless we’re taking a five-minute ride from the store to home, at which point she’ll fall asleep as I pull into the driveway and count that as her daily nap. To compensate, we equipped my car with a DVD player to keep her entertained. It’s an aftermarket player, the kind that plugs into a car cigarette lighter outlet and straps to the headrest before falling out of place while turning onto the interstate and making the immobile child scream in fury that Elmo suddenly disappeared. The DVDs keep her happy for a little while, but after the same one repeats for the third time of the trip, she gets a little antsy.
The boys skipped most of Abbie’s sleep-in-the-car phase and have progressed right to her demand-entertainment phase. Unfortunately for them, I can’t just reach back and fling entertainment into their car seat. That was a difficult reach with Abbie right behind me; it’s impossible with a boy hidden behind the passenger seat. So I listen to someone scream. A lot.
On the ride down, I was under major time-constraints after forgetting the primary rule of leaving the house with children: It always takes longer than you think it will. Unable to stop, I listened to one of the boys scream for most of the second half of the ride. I’m not sure if it was the same boy, or if they traded off to save their voices. Abbie joined in periodically when she couldn’t hear Dora. I felt bad about letting them scream, but I knew they weren’t hungry or in any (physical) pain, they were just bored. And angry.
On the ride back, I left a wide chunk of time for travel. I planned to stop for breaks when the children became too cranky. Our first stop was for lunch at a rest stop about halfway through the journey. Actually this was our second stop, the first was to pick up lunch a few minutes earlier, but thanks to the magic of the drive-thru, we never left the car.
This stop lasted more than an hour, and went smoothly considering that I was immobile while feeding the twins and could only hope Abbie didn’t try to run away. It was a weekday on the interstate, so the rest stop was sparse; just us four, a few retirees, a few truckers, and the creepy-looking janitor, all of whom commented on how I have my hands full. The stop would have been perfect except the restaurant forgot the milk I ordered for Abbie, put mayo on my sandwich like I explicitly did not order, and included another lame car-like toy in her kid’s meal.
With food and probably a few blades of grass in everyone’s tummies, I packed everyone back up and we drove home. I had hoped they’d stay happy until we reached home, but that hope died when Tory started screaming a half-hour down the road. I again pulled over at a rest stop, but only stayed about ten minutes this time, or less time than it takes Brad Lidge to blow a save. As soon as I loaded everyone back into the car, Tory started screaming again. I shrugged and just kept driving. We were only 45 minutes from home at that point, and letting him scream that long in the car won’t hurt him. I know from experience.
* To put it another way, Ellie had the good fortune to be at work and missed the car ride.
The traveling party the three children and me. Ellie had to work and missed the journey.* I used to frequently drive the 200 miles to see my parents without Ellie before the twins arrived. When Abbie was a newborn, I strapped her in her car seat, let her sleep, and remembered to stop for her regularly scheduled feeding because nothing short of a bathroom break would wake her from a car ride. Then I started planning her departure to coincide with naptime so that she would wake once we reached the destination. Then I developed the flexibility to reach back and hand her toys and food while driving to keep her content because her car ride nap times kept decreasing.
Today she apparently doesn’t sleep in the car, unless we’re taking a five-minute ride from the store to home, at which point she’ll fall asleep as I pull into the driveway and count that as her daily nap. To compensate, we equipped my car with a DVD player to keep her entertained. It’s an aftermarket player, the kind that plugs into a car cigarette lighter outlet and straps to the headrest before falling out of place while turning onto the interstate and making the immobile child scream in fury that Elmo suddenly disappeared. The DVDs keep her happy for a little while, but after the same one repeats for the third time of the trip, she gets a little antsy.
The boys skipped most of Abbie’s sleep-in-the-car phase and have progressed right to her demand-entertainment phase. Unfortunately for them, I can’t just reach back and fling entertainment into their car seat. That was a difficult reach with Abbie right behind me; it’s impossible with a boy hidden behind the passenger seat. So I listen to someone scream. A lot.
On the ride down, I was under major time-constraints after forgetting the primary rule of leaving the house with children: It always takes longer than you think it will. Unable to stop, I listened to one of the boys scream for most of the second half of the ride. I’m not sure if it was the same boy, or if they traded off to save their voices. Abbie joined in periodically when she couldn’t hear Dora. I felt bad about letting them scream, but I knew they weren’t hungry or in any (physical) pain, they were just bored. And angry.
On the ride back, I left a wide chunk of time for travel. I planned to stop for breaks when the children became too cranky. Our first stop was for lunch at a rest stop about halfway through the journey. Actually this was our second stop, the first was to pick up lunch a few minutes earlier, but thanks to the magic of the drive-thru, we never left the car.
This stop lasted more than an hour, and went smoothly considering that I was immobile while feeding the twins and could only hope Abbie didn’t try to run away. It was a weekday on the interstate, so the rest stop was sparse; just us four, a few retirees, a few truckers, and the creepy-looking janitor, all of whom commented on how I have my hands full. The stop would have been perfect except the restaurant forgot the milk I ordered for Abbie, put mayo on my sandwich like I explicitly did not order, and included another lame car-like toy in her kid’s meal.
With food and probably a few blades of grass in everyone’s tummies, I packed everyone back up and we drove home. I had hoped they’d stay happy until we reached home, but that hope died when Tory started screaming a half-hour down the road. I again pulled over at a rest stop, but only stayed about ten minutes this time, or less time than it takes Brad Lidge to blow a save. As soon as I loaded everyone back into the car, Tory started screaming again. I shrugged and just kept driving. We were only 45 minutes from home at that point, and letting him scream that long in the car won’t hurt him. I know from experience.
* To put it another way, Ellie had the good fortune to be at work and missed the car ride.
posted by Matt at
10:54 PM
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