Today the baby did not love riding in the car.
From the moment I placed him in his seat, for 11 minutes until he fell asleep, he screamed and cried. Those eleven minutes felt like an eternity, an experience I wouldn't wish on anyone.
Hours later, home and settled, I poured him a bottle of milk.
With mounting anxiety I emptied the gallon jug of the last 5 ounces. Enough for now, but no milk for tomorrow morning. Ugh. I couldn't imagine putting him in the car again.
Of course, that's when the calm reasonable voice of my husband soothes my worries with, "Walk over to the gas station".
After the beach.
After dinner.
Before bath and bedtime stories.
I cuddled my little 26 pounds of love into the baby pack and stomped up the hill for his milk.
I felt relieved. And grateful..
On days when I have bursts of "Oh no!" followed by "Everything is okay", I think of my mother.
When she was in her mid-thirties, around my age now, she lived 3000 miles from her friends and family (like I do now- but without the internet or cell phones).
A mother of 3 children (one an infant), she managed to shuttle us to the park, store and library without a car. We walked everywhere. And I'm sure we were perfect angels who never tired or complained.
In fact, we had a car but she did not have a license. She grew up in a small beach town where she traveled everywhere by foot. From there she moved to the city, where she traveled everywhere by bus or subway. Eventually, she did get her license. It's tricky to live in southern California without one.
My mom didn't complain about walking or driving or juggling the agendas of 3 very different children.
Certainly on days like today, I don't need to look any further for a role model or a reminder of how to live with a certain amount of tenacity and grace.
