wrestling into the car seat

how often I lose

_____________________________

In this corner, weighing in at 25 pounds we have the freakishly strong and wiry 18 month old – AAAAALLLLLEEEEEXXXX!

In this corner, refusing to reveal her weight because she is 7 months pregnant but let’s just say it’s more than her husband weighs, we have – MMMMOOOOOMMMMMMMMYYYYY!

The challenge:  Mommy must avoid pulling a Britney Spears and get Alex buckled into the carseat without either of them losing a shoe, getting hit in the face, or bursting into tears in time to arrive at said designation and be only a little late.

Lately, I dread taking Alex ANYWHERE.  I hate picking him up from daycare most of all.  As we start the walk to the car, he squirms and tries to make a break for it.  I scoop him up, drop him in the carseat, then attempt to get the straps over his arms. 

At which point he arches his back, screams, and flings his right arm across his body to grab the left side of the seat in a valiant and usually successful attempt to avoid being strapped in.  While I struggle to hook the straps, he uses his mind powers to melt his bones and slide out of the seat, under the straps, and onto the floor which is when he scoots across the back seat to the other side of the car.

Knowing that it will take a while for me to either climb into the car and get him or walk around to pull him out the other door, he uses these precious seconds to look around wildly for escape, often going over the console headfirst into the front seat which is where the buttons and cool stuff reside.

Usually he goes for the front seat when he sees me attempting to climb into the backseat to get him because he knows that once I’ve wedged my pregnant self in it takes a while for me to manuever around, get back out, and get around to the front – allowing plenty of time to move somewhere else.

I’ve tried toys, gadgets, singing, crying, pleading – sometimes all at once.  I’ve even tried doing Dr. Harvey Karp’s method of speaking “toddler-ese”, despite the fact that I feel like even more of an ass chanting, “You are mad!  Mad, mad, mad!” while I use my knee to hold him in the seat. 

It’s like trying to stuff an octopus in a pair of pantyhose.

I tried letting him play in the car for a little while between rounds.  I’ve climbed in the backseat and practically sat on him to get him buckled.

It always ends badly - both of us crying and pissed off, me sweating and heaving, him furious and screaming as I drive away.

Now I get it.  This is how parents become housebound.  I don’t want to go anywhere because even if he goes into the seat on the way there, I have absolutely no guarantee that he’ll get back in for the return trip.

This is why we need drive-thru 7-11s and grocery stores.

When I arrive at daycare to pick him up, I strip off my work clothes and heels before I even go inside preparing for the smackdown.  I leave everything, including my keys, in the car so I have both hands free.

I don’t have the stamina for this.  As the temperatures here start to routinely reach 80 degrees, which to me already feels like 95,000 degrees, I don’t relish the idea of continuing to wrestle it out in the backseat on hot summer days.

Isn’t there something else I can try?  Blindfold?  Straightjacket?  Duct tape?

Ah the good old days…

Sunshine and tulips
Rides, music, games and springtime
Amusement park fun!

We happen to have one of the top rated theme parks in the country a mere 20 minutes away.  Which is nice because we can go at off-season times and keep our visits short and enjoyable, instead of miserable because we drove forever to get there and have to wring out every last second of FUN goddammit and then everyone is tired and pissed.

This was my first trip in years because I don’t do well on rides.  I also hate Southern summers.  After every roller coaster I have to sit down for a half hour because vertigo makes me walk sideways and crash into things, plus I despise being sweaty if I’m not working out.  Why tramp around a steaming theme park when I could be lounging by the pool with a frozen drink?  Why wait hours in lines of obnoxious teenagers and vacationers wearing ill fitting shorts for a ride that I won’t enjoy? 

I can manufacture panic attacks quite easily on my own TYVM, without having to hang upside down 100 ft in the air before plunging to the ground at 70 MPH. 

It’s time I admitted it:  I don’t like theme park rides.  I also don’t like to ski.  How very uncool of me.

No one told me that having a child changes how you view amusement parks.  Or that a lot of the kiddie rides require a parent. 

I learned yesterday that kiddie rides are MUCH more my speed.  All this time I’ve been wasting on the loopy rides, I could have been going on this:

And no one blames you!  You can’t very well take a toddler on a roller coaster now can you?  How cute!  And while your 18-month old cuddles up next to you as the ride goes around in a circle, or maybe it even goes WAHOOO UP AND DOWN, you can be totally secure in the knowledge that you are under no obligation to ride anything that requires you be over 36 inches tall.

Totally new perspective.

Anyway, here we are first thing in the morning. Excited although we aren’t sure why. Something in the air…

Hot air balloons…parents don’t ride in these because our fat asses would never get off the ground.

Tulips in bloom…

Aaaannnd, we’re spent.

The end.

—————————-
basketball sucks ass
always on television
sick of march madness

———————————————–

 When is the last time YOU held YOUR remote control? 

Or had a conversation that started with, “Do you want to ____?” 

And was answered with anything but, “Well, I kind of wanted to watch basketball…”

 Right.  It’s been a while.

It’s ok.  I’m not that annoyed.  Because I had uninterrupted blog reading, writing, commenting and general internet surfery in peace for at least 2 hours last night.  Feeding my internet addiction, absolutely 1oo% guilt free, with no obligation for any type of human interaction.  Because even if I tried, it wouldn’t matter.

I hear the low rumble of cheers in the background.

 Just like they were cheering for me.  (Get caught up!  Get caught up!  Read that feed!)

pregnancy and I
we do not get on so well
heartburn – it burns me 

 Things I Forgot About Pregnancy That I Am Just Now Remembering:

• If you spill coffee on yourself, it doesn’t just go in your lap.  It gives you an awesome stain in the shape of Florida on your huge boobs and a South American, or at least Chile-shaped stain on your big belly.  (Although come to think of it, maybe this one also applies to potbellied men.  Justice!)
• Maternity clothes that fit one week will not fit you the next.
• Constantly having to pee.
• Constant hunger followed by…
• Omnipotent heartburn.
• Not being able to cross your legs and being forced to sit like a man with your knees apart.  I can still cross, but when I had to pick up my leg and move it the other day a little bell went off that said “Ding ding! Enjoy it while you can!“
• Jealous envy of new spring clothes.  So pretty!  So frilly!  Because you can’t wear frills or fun prints.  You wear black, because it’s slimming.  Har har.
• The thirst for a summer margarita the first time the temperature gets above 70 degrees, which you won’t be partaking in.
• Sushi…see previous.
• Nesting.  I would have little flurries of cleaning and organizing, which culminated four days before Alex was born with me moving all the appliances in the laundry room including the fridge and washer so I could scrub the walls and woodwork and floors with bleach.  BLEACH!  This time I would definitely like to nest, but I’m so damn tired I clean out my purse instead.
• Did I mention heartburn?  I heart Tums.

New to this pregnancy:

• People constantly asking me if I read the study about coffee and pregnancy and miscarriages.  Yes, I fucking read it, and you are the 50th person to ask me and NO I HAVE NOT GIVEN UP COFFEE SO DON’T MAKE ME COME OVER THERE.
• More fat in different places.

Oh all right.  I suppose I could stop whining.  There are a few good things, like…

• Baby kicks
• Decorating the nursery – in purple!
• Getting to dodge things “because you’re pregnant” that you don’t really want to do anyway
• Showers (not water – baby, duh)
• The miracle of new life?
• Umm…

Somebody remind me of some other good things.  If I open my mouth, heartburn flames will shoot out like a dragon, I swear.

 Haiku Friday is brought to you by Le Binky Bitch over at Playgroups Are No Place For Children.  Go play!