I should start by declaring that we resolved the mystery of the car seat hate.

For weeks, I was known in stores as the Woman with the Crying Baby. Because I would take several trips to, say, BB&B, only to rush out 5 minutes later, head ducked down, in a blaze of decidedly non-glory, but decidely with a red-faced, hysterical infant who would. not. settle. Rinse and repeat, several times a week.

This was very distressing to me for two reasons: 1. Sam was very much a napper-on-the-go and I expected all babies to be the same (ha!) and 2. I am very-much-a-person-that-needs-to-get-out-of-the-house, all the time. When I don't, I end up doing things like changing our cable and internet carrier from Comcast to Verizon, simply because a Verizon man knocked on the door. A human being! Who is an adult who doesn't spit up! Talk to me about FiOs and your cable package deals. This, by the way, is a very true story.

So, we--or, more correctly, Fish--suggested that car seat screamfests were related to the very snuggly headrest we had. I had some doubts about the theory, because what baby would really prefer to have their head flop down forward instead of being held upright at all times, and at all costs. In spite of my doubts, I went ahead and changed out the car seat head rest back to the flimsy one we had used with Sam. Lo and behold, from there on in Deacon has cried a LOT less.

So now that I can rely on naps in the car seat, I decided that it was time to get my arse in gear and exercise. So, off to Wakefield Lake we went this fine day. I plotted out my course length against the time it would take for Deacon to fall off into dreamland, at which point I would sit in the common area right outside the church, and eat a leisurely lunch and read a bit. I packed a sandwich and drink, and my Kindle. I even remembered sunscreen. Look at me, sleep-deprived and yet highly-functioning!

All went according to plan, at first. Substantial walking achieved, and baby fell asleep just like I envisioned. Except I didn't notice that the benches abutted the church parking lot, so the car noises caused an occasional stir from Deacon. Oops, but we can work through this.

And then noon came. And that's when the noise started.

Oh my god, is that...church bells!

#$%*^% church bells!

I had sat right under the steeple. And the church bells were not just chiming noontime, it was playing God Bless America.

Baby immediately starts crying, and I hastily pack everything up and head back to the car in effort to preserve some semblence of nap and quiet time. File under: spaced-out.