(Here’s what they should really write on that obnoxious warning label)

It is both wretched and beloved. I have a love/hate relationship with car seat slumber, similar to that bad relationship from high school that you knew was toxic, but you just kept going back to. I acknowledge its place in the desperate world of sleepless and busy parents. There have been times when those four little straps (a necessary straight jacket) and a long, rough road (pediatric Lunesta), were my only saving grace. When rocking, shushing, bouncing, blow drying (a last resort magic trick I learned from the talented sleep magicians, The Pecks ), and trying to drown out their cries with my own, failed to provide any restful relief, the car seat whisperer held a power to my sanity that I can never repay. Then there are those long, long, LONG car rides where that car seat magic is your only hope against the chorus of “Are we there yets” and boredom induced cabin fever fits, that inevitably crowd out the family friendly images of fictional road-trip bliss. For those moments, car seat, I am forever grateful.

However with all light, there is darkness. Amidst all worldly goodness, comes inherent evil. This evil I am referring to is the notorious car seat catnap. We all know it. It is that 10:00 teaser that translates into a terror at 2:00, and 3:00, and 4:00, which also means boarding up the windows and housing the weary beast away from the public eye, until you can coax the now over-tired animal into an overdue slumber. “Just put them down extra early,” good intentioned onlookers say. Really? Because I am sure you would love that perky 4 AM wake-up call. All of this misery because of the dark magic of that evil car seat.

But there is an even darker tale. It is 4 o’clock, the cranky kid has resisted rest the whole day (to your dismay), and while you would love nothing more than a few “M-O-MMMM-YYYY”-less moments, you are an experienced enough Mama to know that a late-afternoon lull, translates into Club Toddler Twilight. So what do you do? Well, you torture your child of course. You roll down the windows (Yes…even if it is snowing. Especially if it is snowing). You crank up the tunes and suddenly find that heavy metal-inspired voice that was always meant for those Radio Disney lyrics. You poke them at every stoplight. You point out fictitious sites out the window, hoping to entice those falling lids into widening once again. You bully, beg, and lie… to no avail. Fortunately, this is one of those unique times when having a litter is actually beneficial. When a little one begins to lull, you simply release the siblings. You give them the okay to use those forbidden powers of harassment. “Tickle his tootsies.” “Put your finger in his ear.” “Try up his nose.” Have them belt out their most irritating renditions of their already irritating children’s songs. Yesterday’s favorite was Zoe’s take on “There was an old lady who lived in a shoe. She had so many children she didn’t know what to do. Hey Mommy that’s you. It’s true!” She didn’t miss a beat. Or, my favorite, encourage a game of puppetry, with the little sleep threat as the mouthpiece. And when all else fails, resort to the sleep anti-venom known as sugar. I prefer lollipops for the fast acting and extended release option. Whatever you do, DON’T LET THEM SLEEP!

And so the car seat is our best friend and our worst enemy. Know how to use its powers for good, and it will provide you many years of hope. Ignore its powers of evil, and you will suffer the consequences.