Yesterday, we decided to be spontaneous and go visit family in the middle of the day.

Ishaan had the most fun. Playing outside, dipping his feet in the pool, roaming around the backyard watching the leaves skitter in the wind.

And, naturally, when things are so fun, he wanted to throw himself in it completely. No regard for how long he should have napped for, how much he should have eaten.

His whole schedule was thrown off. And when we decided to head home around 8:15 (long past his bedtime), he was a mess.

Deliriously tired. So hungry. And he’s not a happy camper when he has to sit in the car while it’s dark outside.

As I started the car and backed out of the driveway, I realized I didn’t have enough gas to get me home and also had forgotten my wallet back at home. Oof.

So, my uncle followed us to the gas station right before we got onto the freeway and filled up my tank before sending me off. (Seriously, thank you the most family. I would be lost without you).

Before we even pulled out of the gas station, Ishaan started screaming. And kept screaming.

I tried his music. White noise. Reaching behind me and putting my hand on his chest. I tried crackers. Toys. Singing his favorite song, Old MacDonald. Heck, I even handed him my cell phone, his most favorite thing to play with and put in his mouth.

But he wasn’t having any of it.

After about 10 minutes of screaming in the backseat, I decided to exit and pull into some random gated community right off the freeway. He was crying uncontrollably. I had tears in my eyes. My heart felt like it was beating a million times a minute.

I jumped out of my seat, threw open the back door, and unbuckled him from the car seat.

Even in my arms, he continued to cry. Hiccuping and sobbing.

I tried nursing him in the backseat and could feel his little body shaking against me.

He’d take a few sips and then pull off and cry. Over and over and over again.

Louder and louder and louder.

Eventually, I said to him, “We have to go home. Mama has to put you back in the car seat so we can keep driving to get home. We are only 20 minutes away now.”

And, as I buckled him back into his car seat, he screeched and reached out to me. Tears rolling down his face.

I got back onto the freeway and he continued crying for about five minutes and then, all of a sudden, quiet. I had the light on in the backseat and could see that he had eventually passed out.

20 minutes later, we made it home. And when I began to unbuckle him from the car seat, he was ready to start screaming again. But then he realized I was getting him out. I whispered, “We’re home, we’re home, we’re home,” and gave him all the kisses.

When I pulled him out of the car, he looked around and I could see that he recognized where we were.

We put all our things in the stroller and we made it inside. I gave him milk, some Tylenol, and he immediately passed out. No, we did not brush his teeth last night. Sue me.

As soon as he was sleeping, I tiptoed out to unpack our things and clean up a little. But, before that, I threw myself on the couch and took a deep breath.

I thought back to all those times – before becoming a mama – when I’d roll my eyes at the mamas that tried to keep their kid on a routine.

All those times – before becoming a mama – when I’d think to myself, “GOD, how rigid. Let them live a little!”

I mean, I don’t think I was super judgmental. But I definitely don’t think I quite understood why parents couldn’t just carry on living their life the way it was pre-babies. Why they couldn’t be a little more flexible.

And last night was a perfect example of why.

I don’t think it means I have to throw all spontaneity out the window. Sure, I could stick to the same schedule day-in and day-out, but then he’d miss out on fun experiences with his family like he had yesterday. And those are really important too.

It’s a balance. One I’m still trying to figure out.

This morning, we are taking Ishu to the lab to get pricked by some needles for an allergy test. Oof. His mama is really messing up his life lately.

After today, we’ll fall back to a normal schedule. With normal nap times. And normal day-to-day living.

For a few days.

Until we mess up his normal and need a few days to recover all over again.