It was not what you might call military precision.
We didn't mean to undertake such a major operation, but it became unavoidable. Our goal was fairly simple: go to my wife's mom's house (a one-hour drive) for Thanksgiving.
It seemed simple. We have done it many times before. But we forgot a major stumbling block to any such plan … we have a baby now.
This fact means a total shift in thinking and strategizing about how to achieve our goal.
If it was just my wife and I, we would get dressed, I'd wait around for her to be ready and then we would leave.
A baby adds at least two days of planning and a trunk-full of items to the process.
First, we have to pack all the items for the baby. This means diapers, wipes, pacifier, clothes, and more clothes for after he spits up on the others, toys (for dad), blankets, Social Security card, application for college, etc.
My wife planned to stay over for the weekend so this required another few hours of packing to get her stuff together.
At this point we had two suitcases, three bags, and a crying baby. The baby was crying because he needed to eat. Apparently anytime you want to go anywhere, your baby is hungry.
So, then he ate. Our car nearly buckled under the strain of the items stuffed inside, but we finally got the baby in the car with all of the other items we needed to bring.
My wife then decided she had to ride in the backseat so she could watch the baby. This is not a new thing for us. It is actually a relief to have her looking at our baby rather than my driving for a change. I have grown used to being the chauffeur for my wife and son.
This is the first sign of rookie parents.
In fact if you ever see a couple approaching in a car where the man is driving and the woman is riding in the back looking into a car seat, you had better run unless you want to be stuck looking at hours of baby photos and hearing stories about the adorable "coo" he uttered the night before.
Rookie parents are a dangerous breed. I believe it may stem from the lack of sleep, but they cannot resist telling everyone they know (and hundreds of people they don't) about every minor aspect of how their child is the most beautiful, most talented and smartest kid of all time.
Anyway, we were on the road looking like the Beverly Hillbillies (if they had a chauffeur).
Of course, everyone else on the road was on their way to Thanksgiving somewhere else, too. And most of these folks - I noticed - were veteran parents.
Veteran parents are equally easy to spot. They are usually driving a minivan of some sort with the kids sitting in the backseats (they are apparently kept submissive by mental telepathy from the parents), mom is in the passenger seat telling dad that he is driving wrong and all they need to bring is mom's purse and some fabulous dessert that mom apparently had plenty of time to prepare.
A veteran mom's purse is an amazing thing. There is nothing that a kid needs that can't be found inside. She can produce Band-Aids, chewing gum, gauze, toys, diapers, and nail clippers all from the same purse and still have room left for Lifesavers and quarters for video games.
At least this is the perception of us rookie parents.
We pulled up to a stoplight next to the veteran parent poster family. The mom looked over at our packed car, my wife in the backseat and my son crying like he was being tortured and she nearly laughed.
Eventually my son quieted down and fell asleep. My wife just stared at him.
Now, I should have realized that a rookie mom that does not have a crying baby to worry about would invent something to worry about.
"He shouldn't be sleeping this long," she said. "Do you think something is wrong?"
"No Dear."
"Have you noticed these marks on his face? It looks like acne. But it's only on that one cheek. That's where I normally kiss him. Do you think he could be reacting badly to my Chapstick?"
"No Dear."
"He's breathing funny again. Do you think that's a problem?"
"No Dear."
This continued on for the entire trip. We unloaded our bounty into my mother-in-law's house and she looked at us with that same veteran mom's look that says simply:
"Rookie."
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