The map company Rand McNally has just come out with a survey about road trips, and not surprisingly, "top road trip disagreements" were "personal space/seating arrangements" and "when to stop for breaks."
In case you're not sure what that means, let me translate.
Disagreements over "personal space/seating arrangements" means the kids are killing each other in the back seat. One kid is squished in the middle, with a kid on either side tormenting him. Or maybe somebody's sliming boogers on somebody else's arm and denying it, while another common scenario involves the refusal to share potato chips. Then there's the ever-popular routine in which a kid on one side is actually taking up two-thirds of the back seat, often by lying down, pretending to sleep, with arms and legs flung wide.
There are only two ways to solve this problem.
Get a car so big that every member of the family has his or her own row. Or wait until the older child is big enough to sit in the front passenger seat, and put the younger child in back. We can't afford a bigger car, so we use option two. Usually I sit in back with the younger one, while my older son sits in front with his dad driving.
That works until the one in front pushes his seat all the way back into the knees of the person sitting behind him. The two possible solutions for that problem are: Scream your head off until the kid behaves, or bribe him. I usually try both, in that order.
As for the other top cause of disagreements on a road trip, "when to stop for breaks," that means somebody has to go to the bathroom, and the driver says no.
That was not a problem with our older child, who has the bladder of a camel.
But the second child was not so cooperative. After a series of near-accidents veering off major highways so he could answer nature's call by the side of the road or at a rest stop, we started bringing along what we indelicately referred to as a "pee pee" jar. This was basically an empty spaghetti sauce jar or coffee can. Unfortunately, the kid liked this alternative so much that he seemed to need it far more often than he would a regular bathroom. This wasn't staving off emergencies–it was encouraging them. I decided the pee-pee jar had to go.
That left only one alternative. My husband and I became Car Nazis. Anybody needs to stop for anything, TOO BAD! No excuses, no explanations, no special cases, no pleadings. We are unreasonable about this, and proud of it. Once we get in the car, the door is not opened until we get where we are going. Not for any reason whatsoever.
My husband gets gas before we leave. I bring food and drink so no one can say hunger or thirst requires a detour–but I remind everyone that consuming liquid could lead to a need for a rest stop that won't be taking place. We all use the bathroom prior to departure. Even the dog is walked and warned before the car door shuts.
Last winter, we drove from New York to Washington, and a cousin who lives in northern Maryland invited us to stop at her house en route. "I'm sure the boys would love to run around for a little while, stretch their legs, use the bathroom, have a snack," she said sweetly.
"I'd love to see you," I responded, "but I'm afraid we have a family policy of never stopping for any reason." I'm sure she was terribly insulted–perhaps even horrified–but once you adopt this stance, you just can't make exceptions.
And here's the beauty of it. It works. Don't ask me why, but so far, we haven't met a road trip where the kids' bladders fill up before tank empties out. And the pee-pee jar is, thank goodness, a disgusting relic from our road-trip past.
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THIS WEEK'S ADVICE: Make sure kids use the bathroom before you get in the car and every time you stop for gas or at a restaurant. Limit beverages if you want to avoid a lot of rest stops. And if you must, keep an empty coffee can under the back seat and be prepared to use it.
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