Sunday, November 27, 2011

In the Target Parking Lot

I think my child is maturing a little too quickly.  She thinks she is already two.  We still have a few months to go.  Don't grow up too fast.

Baby and I went shopping at Target not too long ago.  We like shopping.  She rides in the cart and points at things.  I make sure she is strapped in or she lunges for things.  This shopping experience was typical.  We got what we needed, paid for it, and headed to the car.

I go to put Baby in her carseat and she starts to scream.  I quickly pull her out because I have no idea why she is screaming.  I check her over and make sure she is not harmed.  She stops screaming when I pull her out.

I go to put her back in and she starts screaming again and arching her back (this is a very effective tactic for not letting Mommy strap you in).  I pull her out again, certain that something in her carseat is poking or hurting her.  I check her over, check it over, and can find no reason for the screaming.

I go to put her back in and once again she starts screaming at the top of her little lungs and arching her back.  I am pretty sure nothing is wrong and try to push her in her seat.  She starts squirming, pushing her feet on the chair and fighting me with all her might, all the while screaming, screaming, screaming.

Worried that someone is going to accuse me of kidnapping my own child and forcing her into my car, I crawl into the backseat of my little compact and close the door.  My child's screams are intensified on the inside of the car, but at lease the entire parking lot can't hear her anymore.  I hope.

I wasn't aware, but apparently Baby has been practicing with Houdini in the art of escape tactics.  I try to push her down into her seat and she consistently wiggles out of my grasp.  At one point, I just put her down on the floor in front of the backseat because my back was hurting trying to get her to stay still so I could strap her down.  She then proceeded to climb up onto the center console in between the two front seats, look back at me, and grin a nice toothy grin accompanied by a mocking eye.

This was war.

I grabbed her and shoved her into her seat as quickly and skillfully as I could.  Her screaming, me trying to be forceful but not hurt her.  In the end, I succeeded (Mommy- 1, Baby- 0), but boy did she let me know she was not happy the whole ride home (Note: turning up music does not help.  As the volume increases, so does she).

After we arrived home I took her out and did notice a scratch on her arm where I had grabbed her to try and force her into her carseat.

I told Husband about her incident and told him I thought she was starting the tantrum stage.  Husband told me she'd never reacted that way for him before.  

I tried to stay home and coerce Husband into taking her places the next few times we went places.  It was slightly validating when she did the same thing for him the next morning when he had to take her to daycare.

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