When Amy was in her third trimester, we visited a local baby store to shop for the few items that hadn’t been passed down or gifted to us. First on our list was a baby car seat.
What you need to know about me is that I love taking advice; it seems so much easier than researching. I do realize that advice from salespeople is somewhat tainted by commissions, product availability, trends, and personal opinions, but I view it as a starting point. In the case of shopping for our first car seat, the salesperson was a teenager who spoke like a valley girl, stating everything as a question: ‘Cha, I’m sorry? Like we don’t carry car seats here?’ And as if that wasn’t bad enough, ‘Anyways, car seats are like, really bad for babies?’ Amy informed the youth that perhaps this wasn’t sound advice to provide to new mothers, especially when it significantly restricts their mobility options (like getting home from the hospital, for example). The girl retracted her statement but still suggested a two-hour maximum car seat allowance to prevent ‘like, the spine from curling up?’ As much as this dimwit’s opinion infuriated me, I was haunted by visions of my hunched-over 10 year-old trying to play with the other boys and girls but only being able to stare at his shoes.
Dire outcomes aside, Baxter successfully went on lots of errands in his new car seat, falling soundly asleep on almost every occasion. He visited Amy’s friends and family in Sarnia, then Brantford, and only bellowed when he had a legitimate beef (Sir Pukes-a-Lot demands a rapid mopping up).
A week and a half later, the wagon was packed to the brim and we were heading out on our first major road trip to Boston where fun and adventure greeted us around every corner. Stay tuned.