We have a new car seat. A deluxe model. It was expensive, but we were tired of struggling with our much cheaper, never wanted to work right, budget store model. So, we forked over the big bucks and told ourselves it was an investment and worth every penny (for it’s much better safety rating). Then, two days later, Tiny-Small had a diaper blow-out poop explosion. It bubbled out of her diaper, up the sides of the car seat, and then like clockwork, her dad reached in to get her out and started an avalanche of disastrous proportions.
That car seat was christened by a master. Of course, this happened immediately following the lunch in which I said, “Pocket Rocket.” This has been an unusually adventurous week for us. We are carving a new path in awkward and slightly disgusting moment of our lives. It’s been one of those elbows-deep-in-poop kind of weeks both figuratively and literally. Tiny-Small has been kind of explosive in general lately and then we have the chickens, the dogs, the cats and the toilet clogging. When you pair that with my open mouth, insert foot disease it makes for a nice comedy marketed directly towards teenage boys. If only I could find a producer.
Anyway, I stripped the car seat and hand washed it, hung it out to dry (it’s very delicate apparently) and promptly forgot about it. We just haven’t left the house in a few days. Yesterday, storm clouds started rolling in and I suddenly remembered the car seat cover was hanging on the line and blowing in the breeze so I ran out to get it.
That’s when the real trouble began because after a few days I had no idea how that cover went back on the car seat. I spent an hour trying to get it back on the right way. The entire time Tiny-Small and Lucy took turns sitting in it or pulling the straps back out after I had spent, what felt like hours, trying to slide them into their proper place. As soon as I slid one side of the car seat cover over one plastic side, Tiny-Small would just pull it off again. Finally, when I got it into place and was ready to adjust the harness straps I invited Tiny-Small to have a seat. She refused, of course. Sitting in the car seat is only fun when mom doesn’t want you to. After rolling around on the floor, trying to pull straps through dark, secret locations with the dog licking my eyeball and Tiny-Small plopping up and down on my stomach all I can say is I hope she never poops in that thing again. Car seat maintenance is the bane of my existence.
Is it Friday yet? This week has gone on long enough!