BUT (there's always a but, right?) he's in a phase right now where he HATES the car. He'll scream when we get him in his car seat until he runs out of voice or energy. Sometimes this means 10 minutes, other times it means 45. I read in a magazine that when you have a crying infant in your car, your driving skills diminish by 50%. The article suggested that when your baby starts to cry, find a safe place to pull over and attend to him. Well, since Isaac doesn't really "need" anything (he's always freshly fed and diapered), attending to him really wouldn't be much help at all. Plus, we'd never get anywhere. So, I guess the poor little guy will just have to learn to deal with the car.
So on Sunday as we were headed back to Pullman from Spokane, Isaac cried for a few minutes, fell asleep, and slept most of the way in the car, which is wonderful. But then he woke up hungry just as we arrived home. I took him inside and he just started screaming. I mean, full-on, out-and-out, hysterical, I HATE BEING ALIVE screaming. So I changed his diaper. He proceeded to scream, and pee all over me and the nursery. Got the new diaper on, and picked him up to comfort him. More SCREAMING. Then he projectile-vomited, managing to cover himself, me, the dresser, and the carpet in puke. Finally he calmed down with his bottle, and all was right in his world again, but it was one of those 10-minute parenting snapshots that you wish you could videotape and show to high school kids as teen pregnancy prevention education.
I would not endure 45-minute car crying sessions or being covered in bodily fluid for everyone. But I will, gladly, for this little punkin. Here he is in his life jacket at the lake, looking particularly chunky.
