Today we had one of those car seat moments where I thought my head might pop off. Ruby’s too. Do you find yourself doing the “1…..2…………………….OK, 1…..2…..” thing with your toddler? The old “Count to Three” that always scared the beJesus out of me (look out if you were not inyourseat, outofthecar, inyourjacket, readyforbath by ***3***) has absolutely no effect on Ruby. If she decides she wants to “do it [her]self,” then you get it done on 1. 2 usually causes a bit of a rolled-eye effect but she trudges on with whatever it is.
Today, it was the dreaded car seat — the place where every toddler at some point refuses to go — even if your ultimate destination, once the car is started, is Disneyworld. I am, most times, more scared of 3 than she is, wondering “what the hell am I going to do at 3 that is any different than what I tried before I started this foolish counting?”
We got to three. I put her (too sternly) in the car seat, and spent the next whatseemedlike 45 minutes trying to buckle in an anaconda covered in Vaseline, hepped up on crystal meth. She was screaming so loud that I had tears in my eyes. Once I got her in, I stood by the closed car for what felt like a long time just waiting it out. Even then, she screamed all the way to the park, the site of which prompted her to say “I feel better now, Momma,” and offer to put back on half the clothes/shoes she had taken off and chucked up front on the ride.
“Good,” I thought, “then you won’t mind a little detour to the liquor store before we leap gaily onto the swings.”
She and I both feel at wits’ end at these moments. I, however, am the adult. When am I going to learn the path through it, for both of us?
Or, do I just white-knuckle it until she’s three?
Don’t answer that…that’s still 7 months away.
M.A.R.R.S., Pump Up The Volume