I love sleeping in the car. I was one of those babies who would happily load into the car seat for a ride around the block, and pass out by the time the car had made its first turn.
In some sick twist of fate, Patrick and I have kids who HATE the car. Jasper’s first trip to visit my in-laws included 4 hours of screaming and projectile vomit all over everyone and everything. Sawyer made his inaugural trip last week; there were hours upon hours of screaming, but he was kind enough not to puke all over me.
People are always surprised, and more than a little dubious when I explain how our kids loath the car.
“Have you tried driving at night? Or at nap time?” they ask, their voices full of disbelief. “What about benadryl?” (Hint: You can’t give that stuff to a two month old.)
Then, there is always the, “he’ll nap when he’s older. They’ll start to like the car.”
Jasper is three and a half- he tolerates the car rides, now, but he certainly doesn’t enjoy it. And he isn’t napping now- when do you think that’s going to happen? Sawyer is in the car at least once or twice a day- how many more times a day would I need to drive around for him to “just get used to it?”
So, for now, we have to deal with a tiny baby doing his best to let us know that he hates what is happening at the top of his lungs.Desperate to hear the radio, Jasper often tries to sing to him- but I’ve got to tell you- it’s heartbreaking. (To be fair, Jasper likes watching DVDs in the car and drinking juice, now- he tolerates trips up to 3.5 hours pretty well.)
There are plenty of people who have been sympathetic and understanding about the torture that we endure during car rides. If you’re reading this, and somehow managed to survive a similar fate with your own little bundles of joy, please let me know how you managed.
Mark West is doing his best to help me recover, tonight.