As any new parent knows, accomplishing small things can be hard. High off of the victory of showering one day when my son was around five weeks old, I was eager to cross our apartment's threshold and be in the world, so I decided that we would pick up my husband from work. About a mile into our four mile trek, I committed the hubris of believing that the lack of commotion from the back of the car meant that the little guy had consented to our outing. But then it started. The blood curdling cries that only newborns and birds are capable of.