If you’ve been following my little ol’ blog for a bit then you may be aware that Liam was an absolute nightmare in his carseat. To sum it up: he would scratch his eyeballs out while screaming and sweating. I cowered in my house…it was not a good few months for us. However, rejoice, things are immensely better. Not perfect, but nooothing like what it used to be. It’s still a mystery to me as to what caused Liam’s angst. Motion sickness? Gas? Hunger? Just didn’t like to be restrained??
With that reminder thrown out there, I’m now going to tell you that I actually put Liam in the car to fall asleep. On purpose. I know. Am I crazy? No, it was just that hard to get him to nap at home. Nursing, fail. Exercise ball, fail. Hug, jiggle, cry until he passes out…fail. So, into the carseat I strap the little bugger.
He’s quiet. Not asleep, I’m pretty sure, but quiet. I push my luck and pull into the Starbucks drive-thru across town. (Mommy needs something to do while driving around town. Drinking a delicious iced skinny vanilla latte counts as doing something.) He’s still quiet and I’m thinking I’m the smartest Mama out there. I have no way of really knowing whether he’s sleeping or not, damn rear-facing carseats, but I’m thinking I’m in the clear now. And since all I have to do is drink my latte and let that baby sleep I turn the car down a road in my town that I purposefully go to sight-see. The road runs along the water and the houses are deliciously doused in old New England charm and character. And worth at least a million or two more dollars than I could ever spend on a home.
Yeah. That’s when it happens. You knew it would, you clever Reader. Liam starts in with his haunting wail from car rides past. My natural instinct is to immediately get home and add “car ride, fail” to the list. I yank the car into the next available driveway and K-turn that sucker back from wherest I came.
I’m starting to feel the familiar rise of my blood pressure as his wails increase in length and volume. I dangerously reach into the back seat to shove another pacifier into his unwilling mouth. I curse all of those great car trips we’ve had that fooled me into thinking this was a great idea. And then I remember some advice that was given to me by a mom in my Birth Roots group.
Find a radio station that is only static and turn it up obnoxiously loud.
I had nodded politely at the recommendation, thinking to myself that Liam would laugh in my face. And then claw his eyeballs out.
Worth a shot, though, right? Take your bets now. Did it work??
Unbelievable. I mean, we have a sound machine, I’m no stranger to the white noise concept, but this was just magical. I find the static, crank the volume dial, send up a small prayer…and the crying stops. Like it was turned off. Not a lingering whimper or sniffle. I SWEAR!
Now, I can’t say for sure if Liam dropped into a deep sleep as if a hypnotist had snapped his fingers. I couldn’t see the exact reaction, but what I can attest to is that I did not hear another peep from him and he was fast asleep when I pulled the car back into my garage. Mouth open, drool spilling, snuffling snores and all.
The static station is the ace up my sleeve. My new found confidence and my backup plan. No, it’s not fun to listen to static REALLY, REALLY loudly. (The advice had been to turn it up so loud that you have to sit on your hand to stop yourself from turning it back down.) But it is so much easier to drive to than the crying. Radio static doesn’t make your milk let down. Guaranteed.