I remember the days when I would read stories in Parenting magazines about parents who had nightmare commutes and all the tricks they tried, keeping their kids zoned out and quiet in the backseat. HA-HA! I thought smugly. I don't have a nasty commute. I don't have to worry about Rachel screaming or fussing or whining in the backseat. I live in the anti-car capital of the universe.
Well, how things have CHANGED. Now I have a new job and a new career, one that requires an hour's drive each way with a child who's just beginning to wake up to her power to supremely irritate Mommy. The other day it felt as if she had woken up with the knowledge of how to whine, whine, whine, whine, whine...
Now I commute with my iPod next to me, just in case the fussing becomes unbearable. Then I can turn up the music really loud and shut out the sound of Rachel's voice.
This morning she was whining on the way down -- maybe her blanket had fallen off her legs, or she couldn't reach her books, or she was just bored -- and I snapped, "Rachel, you can be a real pain in the ass sometimes."
That shut her up for a while.
A while later, she announced she had pulled off her shoes. "Oh, Rachel," I said, exasperated. "Where are your socks?"
She paused, and I looked in the rearview mirror. She'd put her socks on her hands.
"Mittens!" she said gleefully.
What could I do but laugh??
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