Parent on Board

It is often said that having a baby (even ones that take cute videos) changes everything. After my first road trip as a parent, “everything” now includes my approach to driving.

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Hanging in car windows rather than on metal posts, the familiar Baby on Board yellow diamond is not an official sign, but it is much more likely to draw my attention than many signs warning of deer, icy bridges, or the like. As a driver, I take extra precaution around these vehicles and give them a wide berth as I speed past them and their cautious ways.

As a new parent, I do not have a Baby on Board sign just yet, but I definitely have altered my driving habits whenever my son is in the backseat. All of our trips have been fairly close to home, and I find myself taking my time on streets I once zoomed through and slowly rounding even familiar turns. Even with this new approach, I can’t help thinking that somehow my driving is ruining him, with visions of his soft, little, sleeping head jarring back and forth against his rear-facing car-seat, losing both brain cells and future accolades with every sharp turn and quick stop. It has gotten to the point where my wife has to encourage me to at least drive the speed limit on straight-aways on the highway. “It’s better to be safe than sorry,” is what I’ve just started to always say.

This weekend, however, marked the first long drive I took with my boy. We spent part of our Thanksgiving with family some 150 miles up I-95. While I’ve seen traffic stretch the drive to a five and six hour, curse-laden, ordeal behind the wheel, the drive normally takes about two-and-a-half hour, which is also about how long my two-month old can nap between feedings – and that’s a maximum. The result of this scenario led to me to abandon my cautious, safety-first, Baby-on-Board mentality for a speed-first, comin’-through, Parent-on-Board mentality.

Expecting to see terrible holiday traffic, I took to the highway Sunday (the drive up was on Black Friday and saw little traffic) with the sole concern of getting home before the baby woke up. Nothing else mattered. I drove like a crazy person and silently judged those who dared to slow me down. I risked life and limb, weaving through the cars that were cruising ten miles over the speed limit. I shook my fist at whoever decided to build left lane exits and entrances. “Out of the way!” my mind screamed. “I have a Baby on Board, people! I need to get home!” The sleeping baby was like a ticking bomb. I had to get home before he blew.

About halfway through my drive, I zoomed past a group of slow moving cars only to notice that I just passed a cop. I was going twenty-five miles over the speed limit. I slowed down to the speed of traffic, briefly, but didn’t hesitate to return to my speeding ways when I felt I was in the clear. Law be damned! I raced onward, single-mindedly.

Even with a few slow spots, we made the trip, door-to-door, in just over two hours. That’s far from a record, but impressive nonetheless. In the final miles, the baby began to stir. He was waking up peacefully, and I could almost hear him think “how much further” as we eased into our neighborhood.

I declare victory for this parent, and I believe I just earned my stripes as a Parent on Board.