Screaming Babies, Side Roads, Bare Boobs and a Sheriff

 

We planned our vacation drive down to the beach to coincide with Conor’s nap.  We left Charlotte around 12 and before we even hit Independence Blvd, he was out.  The other times we’d driven to the beach, it’s taken about 3 1/2 hours, so we figured a good 2 hour nap and he’d only spend an hour and a half awake.  We could handle that.

 

He took his good 2 hour nap as expected.  We did not, however, expect the massive traffic heading towards the beach.  So at about 4 hours into the trip and another hour to go, the first meltdown began.  And we’re you’re driving along the boondocks of South Carolina, there are few options to pull the car over and comfort your little one.  Peek-a-boo and his favorite weeble can only do so much in distracting him.  It was pretty tough on all of us. 

 

We decided on the way back that we’d try to reverse the awake and asleep time.  We figured we’d drive for a while, eat dinner somewhere in the middle, and then the little guy would to be lulled into his regular night’s sleep by his full belly and the moving car.

 

Once again:  Fools. 

 

Even after a very big dinner, he would not go to sleep.  He started crying, wailing even, as we were driving down the road.  We inadvertently began to engage in DIO:  Driving It Out.  The poor child was screaming at us as hot tears were streaming down his face.  The good news is that this time, we were driving down a North Carolina highway.  The bad news is that it was dusk and not nary a store or peach stand was open for us to stop in.

 

As my son’s wails reached the Jetta window piercing level, we made a quick exit off to a side road.  We were a little relieved to see that someone else had already parked their bitchin’ Camaro on one side of the road.  I don’t know why this relieved us; perhaps we believed that a car pulled off the side of the road was a sign that it was safe to park and figure things out.  In any case, we turned around and parked opposite the BC

 

Dave hopped out of the car, released Conor from his prison and brought him up front.  I whipped out a boob and Conor latched on, finally quiet.  A few minutes on leftie and it was time to empty out rightie.  Fat, full and happy, Conor started playing around the front seat of the car.  I handed him over to Dave and started to clean myself up.

 

At exactly that time, with my nursing bra completely undone, and my shirt up over my chest, I could see from my rearview window the Sheriff’s car pull up next to ours.  Quickly, I do the nursing mother’s hunch in which your round your shoulders to provide a bit more slack and coverage and you struggle to fix everything in the frontal areas.  I also rolled down the window.

 

“Everything OK?” the Sheriff asks. 

 

“We’re trying to calm down our screaming baby,” I reply.

 

“What?” he asks either not seeing the baby or wondering what the heck I’m doing under my shirt. 

 

“Baby.  Crying.  Needs to go to Sleep.”  Dave holds up Conor in the middle of the car who by now is looking very adorable in his pajamas and is not weepy at all.

 

“OK” said the Sheriff who smiled and drove the 50 feet to the stop sign.

 

Another car came behind them, and they too, curiously peered into our car.  Dave and I gave each other guilty looks for which I have no idea why except that boobs and a sheriff were involved.  Then we debated whether or not we should put Conor in the back seat again and drive off.

 

That’s when I noticed the Sheriff’s car wasn’t moving.  He was still sitting at the stop sign with the other car waiting patiently behind him.  There was no traffic on the road so he could have pulled into the highway if he wanted.  But he continued to just sit there. 

 

“YIKES!  We should go” I said.  Dave opened the door to move Conor to the back.  And almost immediately, the Sheriff drove off. 

 

Was he waiting to make sure we didn’t drive away with our baby in the front seat?  Was he checking on our license plate?  Am I just paranoid around the cops????

 

I have no idea what the man saw, although I’m pretty sure he noticed fiddling on my part.  The good news is that on a full nummie tummy, and with Dave leaning over the back seat and rubbing his belly, the little guy quickly went to sleep and was quiet on the way home.  It was a much less eventful hour and a half ride back home. 

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