I'm Driving Them Home... They're Driving Me Bonkers

I do it to myself, I know.  I wait until the kids have run themselves into tired, cranky, hungry limp noodles then I try to stuff them into the car and make for home as if chaos won't inevitably erupt as soon as we hit the highway.

It always does.
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We get into the car.  The temperature is approximately nine thousand degrees.  I know this because my preschooler tells me that it's hot 37 times within the first minute we're in the car.

The baby is crying because he's hot.  And hungry.  And exhausted.

The toddler is crying because she's hot.  And tired.  And opposes car seat restraints.

The preschooler isn't crying, but she's whining.  Because she's hot.  And her hair hurts. And she's hungry, despite having eaten an entire lunch 4 minutes before.

I wrangle the baby into the front seat and nurse him.  He cries periodically because he's still hot, and for some reason, I always manage to park the car so that the sun pours in through the front window, which happens to be directly into his face.

The toddler stops crying.  This is only because she's squeezing the remains of her fruit pouch onto her legs.  I don't know this. 

The preschooler begins to sing "I'm a Little Teapot" on repeat.

The baby finishes nursing and is settling into a relaxed, drowsy state.  Should be an easy transfer to the car seat.

I climb carefully out of the drivers seat and make a move to put him down.

I spot the toddler.  And her fruity legs.  She grins.  I hiss, "NO!" and take the fruit pouch away.

Mistake.  Toddler starts shrieking.

Baby starts shrieking.

Preschooler starts in on redition 87 of "I'm a Little Teapot"

I get in the drivers seat and start moving.  Baby quiets.  Toddler begins to repeatedly ask for her "Night-night" blanket.  It's on the floor.  Way out of my reach.

I pull over.  Baby does not like stopping.  Makes this known.

Toddler is placated momentarily with special blanket.

Preschooler begins to weep-sing "I'm a Little Teapot."  When questioned, she says her hair still hurts.  I tell her not to be a crying teapot.  She laughs.  Crisis averted.  Preschooler decides to hum the "WEEEEE-ooooo-weeee-ooooo-weee-bumbumawee" part of "In the Jungle, the Mighty Jungle" at top volume.

Baby starts fussing.  I am running out of toys, so I start tossing empty cups in his general direction.  He likes this.

Toddler starts begging, "Mama, I want to take a nap!" intermitantly with "I want a farshfellow*!"

(*marshmallow)

I beg her to stop the infernal whining and remind her that we're almost home.

"Farshfellow! Farshfellow! FARSHFELLOW!"

I start chanting inwardly, "Almost naptime, almost naptime, almost naptime..."

2 minutes from home and I'm suddenly jolted from my reverie by the sound of... silence.  We pull into the driveway and I see why.

Everyone's asleep.

Of course.