Going Slow

You know "that" driver who goes 10 miles below the speed limit and gives you sweaty flashbacks of the scene in Ferris Bueller's Day Off where the Dad is stuck driving behind the little old lady with the beehive? I used to hate "that" driver; but, now I'm sad to admit I AM "that" driver...but not for the reasons you'd think.

I'm not afraid of highways. I don't mind driving fast. In fact, I always used to be a quickest-way-from-point-A-to-point-B kind of girl. There's a reason I drive a car that has a turbo charged engine and eats up premium fuel. In fact, here's a picture of me at this years car show - I never miss it - I'm weird like that.

Howevever, driving has become a purposeful, strategic, and necessary means to get Livija to take much needed cat naps so she can make it through to bedtime. I have memorized the twists and turns of Route 9 between Newton and Natick so well that I could drive it with a Lovey pulled over my eyes. I've learned, that a quick trip to Babies R Us affords us just enough car time for Livija to sneak in 25-30 minutes of snoozing BUT only if I drive the speed limit.

It has made me a safer driver, and my time in the car is much less stressful now that I don't feel the heavy anxiety of "needing" to get someplace on time. Sorry to the young, childless folks out there who get stuck behind me on the highway....but naptime is more important than feelin' the wind in my hair.