Driving Mr. Daisy

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If you thought riding in a car with someone who knows how to drive and gives you commands is difficult, try doing it with a 2-year-old who won’t even drive his own motorized fire engine. (He barely wants to ride in his friend’s awesome “blue truck.”)
You’re headed through a round-about: “Mommy! STOP!” No way, bucko.
You’re stopped at a red light: not just-turned-red-had-to-make-a-decision-pink/red but dump-truck-in-front-cars-going-nowhere-red “Mommy! Go Go GO!” Again, not happening.
As soon as the little driver feels the slightest tap of break he immediately shouts “Go Mommy!” and kicks his feet, Fred-Flintstone style.
He does love his car rides.
He’s so curious and verbal. He points out everything and ever since we turned his seat around, the world is his oyster, essentially.
Usual topics for car rides include: cars, busses, airplanes, tractors, trucks, fire engines, more fire engines, where are the fire engines, hay bales (yes, hay bales), cows, pigs (we’ve yet to see pigs while driving, but we mention them often), Oma & Daddo’s, Nona & Papa’s, My Daddy at work, I see trains (also, no trains around either), pretending to sleep, kicking Mommy’s seat… and the list continues.
Without fail, whenever we arrive at our destination, be it home or the store or anywhere in between, Bubba exclaims “I home now!”

How funny is that? Those three words, I home now show the complete and utter faith he has in us to take him to the right place and to keep him safe. When exactly do we lose that? Do you ever get somewhere and question if you’ve made it to the right destination? If you forgot something? How often do you check the GPS or Google Maps while you’re headed out to ensure you don’t miss a turn or an exit? I’ll be the first to admit that I have a little bit of travel anxiety. (As my family reads this, they snort at my use of the word “little”) Hush, I can hear you.
1) I don’t really like going somewhere new or with a crud-ton of people.
2) I don’t like getting lost.
3) I don’t like forgetting things.
4) I don’t like being late.

Funny how numbers 1, 2 and 3 often lead to the occurrence of number 4… Throw two kids into the mix and I can tell you I’m probably going to be late. I could start preparing to make it to a playdate yesterday and still barely make it on time today. Ugh, so frustrating. I’m here to tell you it’s okay. Now, I’m not saying to arrive 30+ minutes tardy to every event, but if now and then you rush in with your toddler in a football hold and the baby swinging along in the carrier, relax– take a breath, your friends aren’t going to shut you out of the playdate or lunch. If they do, then clearly, they’re not your friends. I’d advise against being late to a dance recital or a scheduled flight, but most other things, we’ll give you a pass most days. Also, don’t let the fear of being late or getting lost keep you from going to do something awesome. I’m working on this one. So, take a second to double check that buckles are fastened correctly, the right toys are within reach and that you know where you’re going. That will make you feel much more put together while you’re preparing to wrangle your toddler on a playground. No use sweating before you get to the playground.

Be Great,
M

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