A Manic Mom Confession For The Diaries: $300+ Car Seat!

A Manic Mom Confession For The Diaries:

Apparently, $300 doesn’t buy you a toddler who likes his car seat.

Sawyer absolutely hates his car seat.

And I mean hates it.

Car seats have come a long way since Sophia was born.

Back then, no matter how you positioned them, the car seat never quite looked safe. The baby always looked like they were leaning forward at an angle that made you question every parenting decision you’d ever made.

Lillie was the same.

By the time Chloe came along, I had apparently forgotten how much I hated car seats.

Although they had gotten a little better.
A little more level-looking.

But one thing remained consistent:

All three girls fell asleep the second they were buckled in and the engine started.

Car seat + moving vehicle = instant baby sleep.

Surefire.
Beautiful.
Reliable.

Then came Sawyer.

And apparently, baby technology evolved faster than babies did.

Car seats now have anchors and 360-degree rotation.
Multiple recline positions.
Grow-with-me technology.
Newborn through booster.

Basically, this thing is supposed to be the Swiss Army knife of car seats.

So naturally, when I was shopping for Sawyer, I went all in.
We were no longer struggling 20 year olds anymore.
We could afford to get something better.

My big Mom Spend™ was a fancy 360-degree car seat.

In green, of course.

$300+

Three hundred dollars.

For a car seat.

And…

He hates it.

It doesn’t matter if he’s rear-facing.
Forward-facing.
Reclined.
Sitting upright.

I’m pretty sure if I strapped him to the roof, he’d still scream.

This boy will start screaming before we’ve gone a mile.

And I keep thinking eventually he’ll outgrow this phase.

Eventually he’ll realize:
“Oh. I’m perfectly fine. Mom isn’t abandoning me. We’re just going to the grocery store.”

But that day has not arrived.
Not even a little.

No improvement from newborn to 17+ months. He still screams just as loud and just as much.

And for me, there are few things worse than a screaming child or crying baby in the car.

Especially when it’s just you and them.
Because there’s absolutely nothing you can do.
You’re driving. • They’re screaming.

I can’t exactly pull out my magic Mom arms and scoop him up while doing 45 mph.

So I sing.
I baby-talk.
I offer snacks.
I try toys.
I try distraction.
I try reassurance.

And sometimes I mentally offer him a million dollars if he would just please stop screaming for five consecutive minutes.

Does it work?
Nope.
He just screams.

Apparently, he has principles.

So here we are.
Four kids.
Four car-seat eras.

Three girls who apparently viewed a moving vehicle as a complimentary sleep service.
And one little boy who has decided the car seat is a personal attack on his freedom.

I keep waiting for the day he finally realizes he’s safe.

Until then…

I’ll be over here driving, singing, negotiating, and wondering how many miles a mother can travel while being screamed at directly from the back seat before she starts questioning every life choice that led her here.

#SometimesMotherhoodStinks