I found myself navigating our trusty minivan with a wailing baby in the back. My partner, Lisa, sat beside me, lost in her thoughts, gripping her pant leg with one hand while the other rested on the armrest, her face partially buried in her palm. In the backseat, Sam, age 7, and Mia, age 5, had their hands clamped over their ears. Just ten minutes from home, but the countdown felt more like an eternity. Our 5-month-old, Lily, was in full meltdown mode, alternating between sorrowful cries and frantic screams.
Before hitting the road, we had checked her diaper and offered her milk—standard procedure for soothing a cranky infant. Clearly, it hadn’t worked, and with the next exit just ahead, we decided to press on. With a screaming baby in the car, each passing minute stretched on like hours.
Amid the chaos, Mia piped up, requesting her mother’s phone. At first, her voice was a mere whisper lost in the din, which only escalated her frustration. Once we understood her plea, we firmly said no—Mom’s phone was off-limits. But let’s be honest, Lisa and I were both pretty frazzled, likely adding a tinge of irritation to our tone.
This prompted Mia to join in the cacophony. She kicked her feet, pounded her fists, and bared her tiny teeth in a fit, transforming our car ride into a symphony of discord: a screaming baby paired with a tantruming 5-year-old. Poor Sam, stuck in the middle, covered his ears, his eyes glistening with tears, unsure how to make the madness cease.
What could possibly bring peace to this madness? Lisa leaned back, trying to reason with Mia, but it was futile. In that moment, I pondered what could be worse than driving a minivan filled with a howling infant and an upset child. I could hardly think of anything.
Teaching kids how to handle frustration is no easy task. It’s tempting to react emotionally, to snap or take their outbursts personally. It’s equally easy to give in to their demands, only to feel the impending guilt of raising spoiled kids. But never giving in? That makes me seem like a tyrant—an overbearing father, and I definitely don’t want that. Parenting is not a simple matter of black and white; it’s a complex tapestry woven with countless shades that shift based on age and circumstance.
Long story short, Lisa eventually opted to give Mia a piece of candy instead of the phone, which only annoyed Sam further. “Can I have some?” he asked, his voice tinged with jealousy. “That was the last one,” Lisa replied. Mia looked at her brother with a cheeky grin, her lips busy with chocolate, while Lily continued to cry, and Sam turned red-faced, feeling left out. But Mia was blissfully happy. Lisa promised Sam we’d get him some candy when we got home—because with kids, fairness is paramount, even if life isn’t.
As I approached our exit, a wave of exhaustion washed over me, a familiar feeling after a long night of driving with screaming children. It was past 9 p.m. and I began to think about work. I was in the middle of grading assignments for an online class, and the thought of tackling that task after getting the kids settled into bed felt daunting.
I pondered how long it would take to get everyone to sleep, and the looming work I had ahead. I questioned why I was putting myself through this. In the thick of such a tough parenting day, feeling overwhelmed and angry is all too easy—much like how Sam felt when Mia got candy and he didn’t. I had envisioned parenting as sweet and fulfilling, akin to those idyllic ’50s TV shows, but reality had other plans. Up until that point, it had mostly been one long scream fest.
I found myself wanting to pull over, step out of the van, and disappear into the night, seeking solace away from the noise. I craved peace. I wanted to sleep. I longed to be anywhere but in that minivan with a fussing baby.
In total, I endured about 20 minutes of driving with a screaming infant. Yet, it felt like an eternity. Eventually, after the children were tucked in, my work was done, and I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, a smile crept across my face. I wasn’t sure why, but it came. Laughter bubbled up within me, a mix of relief and madness, as I reflected on the absurdity of the situation. I chuckled at Sam’s reaction to missing out on candy, at my own wish to vanish into the darkness, and how silly it all seemed now. I laughed because it was finally over.
Yet, I knew I shouldn’t be laughing. By all rights, I should be burnt out. But instead, I found humor in the chaos. I suppose this is what parenting is about. It’s that moment when your mother says, “One day, you’ll look back and laugh,” and while it may have come sooner than I expected, it was nonetheless a welcome reprieve after a night spent driving with screaming children.
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Summary:
Driving with screaming children can feel like an endless nightmare, especially when faced with a wailing baby and a tantruming sibling. The challenges of parenting often evoke feelings of frustration and helplessness, but even in the chaos, humor can be found. While navigating the ups and downs of family life, it’s essential to remember that these moments, though trying, will eventually become memories to smile about.