There are the milestones that have their own preprinted baby book page dedications. First step. First tooth. First smile.

But then there are those lesser landmarks of babyhood that happen everyday that instead of scrap-booking, we wish we could just scrap.

Like today, for instance. My 22-month has hit that special moment when she realizes that she is the only passenger in the family that has to ride in a car seat. Yesterday, she would happily sit in her Goldfish-laden seat smiling, even climbing in and handing me the buckles to secure. Today? Not so much.

Upon opening the car door, she begins body contortions that rival Cirque de Soleil dress rehearsals. It's like trying to strap a wet water balloon on a saddle greased with Pam. And when she loses this battle of wills, she weeps like a Brett Farve press conference for the first mile of our outing.

I remember this phase with my others. It's not long-lived, just painful for a few weeks until they get distracted by some other way to display their new-found independence, like dressing themselves or insisting on taking the tops off of sippy cups. But unlike those less significant milestones, the car seat protest draws admonishing looks in the grocery store parking lot and a blue ribbon in speed-buckling.

So I know my fellow Mommas will forgive me for not chronicling this one in the baby book. The only evidence of its occurrence will be the "Graco" tattoo on her chest cavity as she strains against her straps for another week.

©2009 Tracey Henry

Divamail me!