Do these genes make me look tired?

Ever see DNA duke it out?

No, I’m not talking about seeing a cellular fight club under a microscope. I’m talking about seeing parental influences clash within a person.

Let me tell you a story about my son.

The other day he was having trouble going to sleep, and I desperately needed him to take a nap. Also, when I say “the other day,” that could mean anything from last Tuesday to months ago. Between the pandemic shaking up my routines and new motherhood frying my brain, I don’t have a clue how to keep track of time anymore.

Anyways, so last Tuesday (or whenever it was) I decided to take Little Man for a drive. Supposedly, when The Husband was a baby, going for a drive was the magic trick to get him to sleep. I don’t know why I’m saying “supposedly.” He’s still like that. If he’s holding still for more than two seconds, he’s out like a light. I love/hate this about him.

So I strapped Little Man into his car seat and went for a spin. Instantly, he went asleep. And I started to enjoy a peaceful drive around town.

But then his eyes suddenly popped open and the fussing resumed.

“What the heck, kid? You’re supposed to be asleep!” I said. Or at least I started to. Before I could finish the sentence, he was out again.

“Well, that’s a relief,” I thought to myself. And before that thought was finished, BAM! Eyes open, more fussing.

And then I realized what was happening. See, I am the opposite of my husband. I have NEVER been able to sleep in cars. Or planes. Or on couches in the college library. I am a diva when it comes to sleep. There must be carefully calibrated sleeping conditions or I’m just out of luck. It’s a curse.

“Sleep, Little Man, sleep!” I shouted. “Let your paternal genes win!”

But he kept switching back and forth. The urge to fall asleep in the car kept being overshadowed by the compulsion to stay awake.

And then in my delirium I started having an argument with myself.

“I need a DeLorean.”

“Excuse me, what?” replied the Logical Part of my Brain.

“You heard me,” said The Crazy. “I need a DeLorean to go back in time. Y’know, like Back to the Future.”

“And you’re going back in time…why?”

“I need to stop him from getting my Staying Awake in the Car genes,” said The Crazy as I start to accelerate to 88 miles per hour.

“Okay, first of all, slow down,” Logic said forcefully. “Second, how exactly does going back in time give you the ability to remove those genes?”

“I don’t know! Time travel powers, that’s how!”

Logic sighed. “Time travel powers? Is that a thing?”

“Well, maybe I need to go into the future. To whatever time period where they’ve figured out how to remove my insomnia curse. And then we can come back here, and he’ll sleep.”

“Crazy, that’s sounding an awful lot like something out of a science fiction horror movie. And that is NOT okay. Haven’t you ever seen Jurassic Park? Bad things happen when you start trying to play God and muck around with DNA.”

“I JUST WANT MY KID TO SLEEP, DAMMIT!” I yelled at myself (but in my head, so I wouldn’t wake the baby).

In case you haven’t figured this out…I really need sleep, y’all.

Eventually Little Man got some sleep, and I managed to avoid a speeding ticket. Here’s hoping I can get some extra sleep soon.

Any of you have any tried and true tricks for getting babies to sleep? Do they involve time travel? Tell me your tips in the comments. I’ll read them in a bit. Gonna go try and take a nap first.