Baby Spam: Driving With Intent to Chill

I have a newfound disdain for road improvement projects. Not so much for the improving process itself -- in fact, I have a healthy respect for torn up roads in all their rugged, chaotic glory -- but for the result: silky new asphalt that lets your car sail effortlessly over an endless smooth plane, making you feel as though you're not moving at all.

Do you know how unhelpful that is to a new mother with a screeching infant in the backseat?

I need bumps, people. Lots of head-jostling, yawn-inducing, uterus-imitating bumps. Potholes? I aim straight for them. Manhole covers? The higher the better. Trolley tracks? God's gift to deafened mom drivers. Will my love of road obstacles kill the suspension on our car? In all likelihood, yes. But that's a price I'm prepared to pay.

Learning to drive with an infant requires stamina and thick skin. Despite my best efforts, singing at the top of my lungs does little to drown out the heartbreaking, milk-producing wails of little Owen. With a baby onboard, you can either learn to ignore the cries (not possible), or learn to drive creatively to keep the littlest passenger happy. And while bumps are a welcomed luxury, constant motion is really the holy grail of mom-driving.

Vehicle-required outings have an urgent new mandate: DO. NOT. STOP. Yes, yes, I know that red bulbs and octagons may suggest otherwise, but they were clearly not implemented by folks traveling with howling newborns in a (very very) close, (claustrophobically) confined space. Must. Keep. Wheels. Rolling. I start braking 30 car lengths before a red light. I callously ignore drivers trying to merge into my lane. I've reinterpreted stop signs to be "pass-through-me-at-3-mph" signs. I selectively yield to pedestrians. And no, it's not because I'm a horrible person with a vicious case of road rage. It's because I'm a mom now, and I will do anything to keep that baby boy happy.

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