Friday, August 12, 2011

Backseat Driver

Either because Alex is macho, I'm not covered by the insurance, or the car is stick shift, I never seem to be the driver.  Before we got to Ireland, Aiven wasn't used to being in a car and that meant that whenever we rented or borrowed a car, I had to ride in the back to keep him company.

My husband assumed it was relaxing to be the passenger.  That couldn't be farther from the truth.  I was "on" the entire time.  I had to consistently deal with Aiven.  I spent the whole car ride contorting myself reaching to get him his water, pacifier, toy, or a snack to settle him down. I would talk or entertain him nonstop, and my Herculean efforts often still failed.  And when Aiven hits the wall, it is a loud and cranky collision. 

One of the things that calms him down right away, for reasons I will never understand, is my husband singing to him.  However, I have to beg Alex to sing, and when he does, I am forced to cajole him to continue beyond the 60 seconds he thinks is adequate.  He's not so keen at multi-tasking, so I must be pretty desperate to ask him to sing and drive at the same time.