What To Do In Case of A Parent Crisis-(not for the faint of stomach)

I'm gonna level with you. Most of the time being the parent of a baby involves making snap decisions when you're out and about on how to meet the needs of a tired, hungry (insert more needs here) baby.

For example, it's two hours since Espen's last nap and we're at least another 45 minutes away from bed. He's showing great signs of being ready for his nap NOW.  Keep in mind that this window of Nap Necessity Now is anywhere from 1.5-4 hours after waking from last nap.

Do you:
(a) Stop everything you're doing, throw everyone in the car and race for home.
(b) Strap on the baby carrier and quickly come up with something you can do in that exact area that will take about an hour so he can nap on the fly.
(c) Try to coax him into a second wind by dangling toys, other babies, blueberries or pieces of paper in front of him.
(d) None of the above. He is a baby and you have stuff to do.

I never end up choosing d, which, while I may congratulate myself on being a good parent for eschewing, often makes outings an engrossing game of "Guess what will work THIS time!"

Mostly, the Unknown Solution is the biggest thing I have to contend with getting right aside from any post-partum or seasonal symptoms that demand scraps of attention now and again.  Rarely do my physical needs trump the baby's.  Except for today.

I was feeling pretty great despite having missed the memo that baby sign language class was cancelled and driving across town.  I bought a pair of Babylegs instead (no, not on the black market along with a new kidney) and headed to Harlow for a nurturing smoothie of kale, cucumber, cilantro and many other green things I'd not normally eat one at a time.  Can you guess where this is going? I couldn't.

Now, magically, another mom had shown up at the cancelled class at the same time I did and she had news. The Biggest Baby Stuff Sale of the Year was happening TODAY on my route home. Alright. There's the plan. Feed Espen his bottle, feed mom her smoothie, hit the baby sale and home...all within the window of Appropriate Awake Time.

Normally, I get the Tempest smoothie which is creamy with avocados and dates and nice things like that. Today however, since I am trying to sort out my allergy like symptoms of the last month and a half, I opted for the Rita, comprised of the vegetables listed above. It was not delicious and creamy like my usual, but it tasted damn healthy so I carefully sipped it down as we headed to the sale.

You know those Spirit halloween stores that take over vacant strip mall storefronts during the Fall? This sale was like that.  It was a pop-up, four-day only take over of some non-descript shop on King Road that just happened to be Filled to Bursting with moms sporting Ergo babies, tattoos, and kids dressed like retro pumpkins and pageant princesses. Espen and I did not stand out.

What did stand out was the rumble that hit me somewhere below the belly button and above my knees as I poked around plastic tubs with a variety of reclining options for baby.  Espen looked at me, his cheeks pink with excitement and sleepiness.  He cooed.  My guts roared back.  This was not the kind of place that has restrooms. The line wrapped around the store. Children screamed. I made a decision of pure panic.

We fled.

I've never gotten that kid in his car seat so fast in his life. He's never submitted that easily either.  Some part of him must have known that now it was Mom's Time.

Normally he'll cry and squawk when he is tired.  Normally, I drive like a sane person.

Today there was no speed limit I would not ignore, no old lady I would not swerve around.  There was no multiple choice to contend with, only Pure Action. I contemplated trying to fit one of Espen's diapers on in case Something Unstoppable Happened.

The gas gauge light flipped on.

I wasn't about to stop.  In times like this, you just figure that if you run out of gas or get pulled over, only blinding honesty will do. I had to make a run for home or a tree for all I was worth.

Meanwhile, Espen was being quiet as a mouse.  I thanked him during a moment of intestinal reprieve. I knew it wouldn't last long and in that fifteen seconds of peace, I was feeling guilty. He took it gracefully and silently. I didn't have the mental or physical space to REALLY appreciate this.

Hunched over the wheel, breathing a silent curse, I somehow managed to careen into the driveway, throw on the emergency brake, shift into neutral and race to the loo just in the nick of time.

When I returned to the still running vehicle with my baby inside, hoping that Espen hadn't been crying, I could only gape.  There he was, sleeping like an angel.

This never happens in his car seat without extreme protest.  Except, it would seem, when mom is about to loose her cookies, and every other healthy thing she's ingested in the last hour. Perhaps I'm on to something here...