Crying Out Loud

On Wednesday, Thursday and Friday, I have to get both Ian and Julian to school, one in Hoboken and one in Jersey City, by car. So the "morning talks" for Ian and I are not quite the cozy affairs that they are on Monday and Tuesday.

These days go something like this: my husband makes as much noise as possible until I crawl out of bed, he gets Juilan's daycare stuff ready, I shower (this is optional, however), he makes the boys waffles, I dry my hair (this is also optional, and somewhat dependent on how likely it is for ice to form on my head once I leave), I get the boys out of bed, we fight about how they have to get up, they tell me they're tired, I go back to my room to find clothes for myself (unfortunately, not optional), I go back to their room and drag them out of bed until they're standing crying on the polka dotted area rug in their room, I carry them both to the table to eat waffles, they may or may not eat, I dress them both (while crying, sometimes all of us), we all brush teeth (still crying), put on coats, put on hats, put on gloves, go down to the garage and get in the car.

Today there were two Wall Street types in the elevator who thought that all the crying this morning was pretty funny. Julian was in full blare, gripping the extended ladder of his toy fire truck and throwing his head back.

"Ha ha, I wish I could get away with that at my office!" said one of the Wall Streeters, laughing to himself, probably imagining the hissy fit he could throw over his paltry, politically-charged bonus this year.

Ha ha, indeed.

Once in the car, I was hoping for better things, or at least no crying. But I made the mistake of turning on the radio.

"I want that song!" shouted Julian, as I was flipping. OK, back to that song. Lady GaGa.

"No, I don't like that song!" shouted Ian, wanting a different station. So I just turned it off and they both started to wail.

"We want music!" the backseat chorus sang, or rather, wailed.

All I could do at that point was pull my hat down over my ears. I keep earplugs in the car for just these moments, but feel a pang of irresponsibility if I put them in while driving my children. You never know. If my darling sons get loud enough, however, the pang goes away and in go the plugs.

Today, I was reaching for them as the light changed...