Though we turned Abby forward-facing over a year ago (has it really been that long?), it's really only recently that she's begun to pay close attention to the things that go on around her while she's in the car. It started off as an interest in what could be seen through her passenger window, which we've encouraged.
Look at the bridge, Abby! Oh, neat, a dump truck!, Abby, do you see the school buses?
However, what Abby seems to be most concerned with lately is what her driver is doing. Every few minutes, I hear a familiar little voice piping up from the back seat.
Though my explanation of traffic signals, what they mean, and how they work, has discouraged her from yelling, "Mommy, go!" every time I have to stop, she still expresses her displeasure when my motives are not immediately apparent to her.
When I cruise towards an upcoming red light: "Mommy, faster!" or "Why are we driving so slow?" or "No, Mommy, don't slow down!"
When I'm waiting for a green arrow while the traffic to the right of me is clear to proceed: "Mommy, the light is green, you should go."
When I have to stop anywhere to turn: "Mommy, don't stop! Mommy, go."
The way to do it right, apparently, is to get out on the highway at full speed, when I may sometimes hear a satisfied "Wheee!" from somewhere behind me.
I had a little conversation with her today about the concept of turning, and how I have to wait until it's clear. I pointed out that she would know that I am doing this by the clicking sound of the turn signal. However, since it took a few repetitions of a similar conversation to help her understand green lights and red lights, I'm unsure whether she's still processing the information, or hasn't yet figured out what clicking I'm referring to in the first place.
That particular conversation needed repeating no less than three times during a seven-minute drive this afternoon.
I've gotta say, the backseat driving is definitely a step up from the screaming babies of my past and the sibling fights that are sure to grace my future, but it's still a relief to finally pull into my own driveway at home by the time I arrive there.
That's the one stop that I'm not questioned about. Yet, anyway.