Car Seat Catharsis – by Amy Cooke

I saw a post once ; “A car seat is a great equalizer. Whether you are breastfeeding / bottle feeding, cloth nappies / disposables, cry it out / co-sleep, every mother, without fail, has bumped their kids’ head on the way in or out  (or both?!) of the car seat!” 

I can tell you all sorts of stories about car seats. But one in particular sticks in my mind. My daughter was just two years old. And she had always hated her car seat. We had moved her into a forward facing car seat at 9 months (I know this will illicit cries of shock and horror from some mothers out there), but it was simply safer as she would scream blue murder whenever I put her in the car. 

Needless to say, car journeys with my little princess- no matter how short – have never been my favourite. 

On this particular day, she was refusing to get in to her (forward facing) car seat. Only a mother will understand the incredible strength of a two year old. Her stubbornness coupled with the acrobatic skills I’m only mildly proud to admit she must have learned from me, enabled her to perform a trick my husband calls “The flailing fish.”  Mamas, you know the one. When your child arches his/her back with their arms above their head, and they are practically impossible to pick up. And definitely impossible to buckle in to a car seat. 

So there I was, parked outside the Maasdorp market within good view of most of Harare society and under the watchful eye of the guard, absolutely unable to get my daughter in to the car. 

Like any good mother I threatened a hiding if she didn’t comply. I then watched the “flailing fish” performance without intervening, let her fall out of the car seat / car, and gave her the aforementioned hiding. I asked her again to get in, picked her up….. And the process repeated itself. Not once. Not twice. Three times. (Can you tell where she gets her stubborn tendencies from?!)

All the while polite passers-by were pretending not to look, while the guard was blatantly enjoying the performance. 

I was exhausted. Emotionally. Physically (I was also pregnant with baby number 2 – how on earth would I ever manage two of them?!) In a final attempt to assert my authority, I picked up the bundle of flailing arms and legs, mustered all my strength and pinned her pelvis into the car seat. Wrangling her arms through the straps I held her feet in a wrestling hold to stop her from kicking me in the face, and I literally used brute force to jam the buckle closed. 

I got in the drivers seat, slammed the door, and instead of feeling like I’d won I felt completely defeated. Meanwhile in the back all hell was breaking loose. I lost it. “Aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh!!!” Any relief I got from shouting was counteracted by the yelling that continued behind me. 

I broke down. With tears streaming down my face I turned around and reached for one tiny foot. It didn’t kick me. Her sobs slowed. “What do you want me to do?!” I asked her, completely exasperated. 

“Mama, let’s pray.” 

Well. That floored me. Just like that, the situation was diffused. We prayed. She smiled. I sighed a HUGE sigh of relief. And we drove home. In peace. 

A battle that seemed so huge, over something so trivial, won by something so simple and yet so powerful. I have found it to be constant truth; Prayer is a very effective weapon in any parental battle. 

As for car seats. One day our kids won’t need them. Like everything, mama, “this too shall pass.” Make sure you don’t miss the magic in the every day moments.