Posted by: mindyourknitting | May 8, 2009

Rear End

I was rear-ended on the highway in stop and go traffic today.  I was driving our brand new car, with the baby strapped into the carseat in the back, making my way home from my parents house after a visit with Gramma and Grampy.   The car behind me hit  me when I started to accelerate from a stop, and I’m pretty sure the douchebag was rubbernecking the five-car accident on the other side of the highway.  We pulled onto the shoulder, and when I got out of the car the 20-something guy driving the snazzy red car that rammed into my car also got out, and the first thing I thought to say was “Dude, I have a baby in the car!”  He apologized, but of course how the hell was he supposed to know that I had a baby in the car?  I don’t have one of those stupid Baby on Board stickers on the car, although the Jolly Jumper sun shade on the rear passenger window might give it away (cut me some slack, we’ve tried like five different sun shades and my kid is really pale).  And even if he did know, does that mean I deserve to get into an accident less than those suckers driving around sans child?  Anyway, thankfully there was no damage to the car because harming my VW baby would only anger me slightly less than harming my actual baby. 

While taking down the driver’s information I couldn’t believe how badly my hand was shaking.  Seriously, I could barely write legibly.  All I kept thinking was “Dude, I have a baby in the car!”   I haven’t considered Abigail as particularly breakable for a while now, and we’re edging out of SIDS territory, and I’ve managed not to drop her on her head yet (um, does her wiggling out of the bucket carseat onto our tile floor, all on her own, count?), but today’s fender bender drove home the idea that I will never stop worrying about her.  Not until I’m dead.  Any fear or worry that will subside will just be replaced by a different one.  And I realized that something as simple as a very, very minor car accident could probably rattle my little pumpkin’s brains enough to give her shaken baby syndrome.  Ugh. 

Oh, and in case you are wondering what Abigail was doing during all this drama, the answer is sleeping.  Like a baby.  Right through the impact, stop on the side of the road, my “Dude.  Baby in Car” rant and everything.  After I woke her up enough to determine that she was not in a coma, she went back to sleep for the rest of the drive home and was her usual rambunctious self for the rest of the evening. 

Now I’m going to go wake her up again to check for concussion hourly, and totally wreck her sleep schedule for good.   This is another reason we like to check on her:  

Abby sleeping May09


She gets up to all sorts of ridiculousness in her crib before finally going to sleep.  See those bumper pads?  The ones that we never put on her crib for fear that she would suffocate on them?  Well, the fear of limb breakage started to outweigh the possibility of her suddenly forgetting how to lift her head.  And the annoyance of having to de-tangle her several times a day probably played a part.  So I put them back on hoping that they would contain her in the confines of her roomy, comfy crib.  They did not.  And yes, we also allow her to have blankets.  Don’t judge, she’s always slept with them and they are crocheted, which means they are full of air-providing holes.

So now I’m going to go check on my possibly concussed, definitely contorted daughter.   And then I’m having a big, fat, honking glass of red wine.  For my whiplash.  Really.



  1. […] but I’m finding it harder to cut out the blue language in the comfort of my own home, or in our car after being rear-ended, for example.  And as a result my baby has probably heard language unsuitable for her little, […]

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