Few things have rocked our parenting universe like Bea’s transition […]
Few things have rocked our parenting universe like Bea’s transition to her big-girl car seat.
Although she has many, many pounds to go before she maxes out the infant seat, her height reached the upper limit rather quickly—at least more quickly than we expected. So to stay on the safe side, we reluctantly packed up her perk-laden baby seat and installed the new, heavy-duty behemoth convertible seat in my car.
Don’t get me wrong; it’s a nice car seat … a really nice car seat. It’s cushy and safe and happens to be the same brand as her baby seat and everything. It’s just the convenience factor; we didn’t realize how handy the infant car seat was until it was gone. The mobility, the ease of installation (both putting the baby in the seat and the seat in the car) and the sunshade—oh, the sweet, sweet sunshade!—were all features we found ourselves missing the second we pulled out of the garage.
Bea wasn’t too happy with the switch either. Her infant seat was a cozy little pod that lulled her to sleep almost immediately. The new seat is strangely roomy, and it easily sucks toys and teethers out of reach before we make it to the end of our street. She’s shed more tears in the car over the past couple of weeks than she ever did previously, and I totally feel her pain.
I miss being able to load her up in the house and tote her around town without ever having to unlatch a buckle or battle a jacket. I miss those hands-free moments where I could sit her on the ground, contentedly trapped, and not worry about her crawling into the fish tank at the doctor’s office or eating who-knows-what off the floor of the post office. And I really miss not having to wake her up from her sweet and peaceful slumber at every single stop.
It’s annoying, but whatever freedom I’ve lost Bea has found. Although she may be a little grumpy about the ride, she’s pretty pumped every time I put the car in park. Without the confines of her infant seat, she’s now free to explore her surroundings. She has become a shopping-cart cruising social butterfly, sharing her snaggletooth grin with everything in sight, from fellow shoppers to canned beans. It’s super cute … almost cute enough to make me appreciate the clunky addition to my back seat.