Taking Care of Baby? Better Snap to It

Hudson in his car seat waiting for a ride

We just got home from Atlanta after babysitting Hudson, our toddler grandson while our daughter and son-in-law slipped away to London last week.

Yep, it was our pleasure, and we were on the job like sergeants patrolling their troops, except we only had one to watch, and that was plenty.  We  were constantly feeding, changing, swimming, and running to stores to get him tired out before his nap—his and ours. 

But that was the easy part.   

It was the baby equipment that got us—the high chair, car seat, stroller, and crib—regular things that turned two adults into brawling alley cats suddenly frantic to attach the necessary straps, snaps, and buckles to save our grandson from getting injured, or worse.

                                     

a stroller ready to fold up again

But I soon discovered that even a baby can do it.   Hudson, working silently, easily unraveled the arm straps of his car seat, and I warned him not to do it again.   On second thought, I should’ve asked him to attach his own stuff together.  I fitted the straps under his arms and buckled the sides, but it was the legs that drove us nuts.  We just couldn’t get them to click.

 

Couldn't do it, as George W used to say, but I was determined to succeed.    

The moment I put Hudson down for the night, I hurried into the garage.  Practice time, I thought.  Any idiot can snap a stupid buckle--any moron on earth.  Taking a deep breath, I pressed down on the belt like I was obliterating an angry cockroach hidden beneath a towel, and lo and behold…

Bring on the baby! I wanted to shout, ready to wake him up and take him for a ride.

One down, I thought, staring at Hudson’s crib the next afternoon.  The sheet could definitely use changing, and it certainly looked easy, easy as baking a pie.  (Okay, I’ve never baked a pie before).  But the sheet was nothing, just a flat piece of fabric attached to ten elastic straps with snaps on each of its ends.   All I had to do was pull them apart and Wha-La!

crib sheet

   

Except…   You get the drift.   I couldn’t get those damn things to separate and finally gave up when my fingers burned like I’d been playing with a pack of trick matches.

I made my way out of his room but still couldn't figure out how come it’s so easy for parents and impossible for us.   Maybe those baby companies could make a few adjustments for the millions of baby boomers who are no longer nimble—like producing wider snaps and buckles, and maybe lubricants on the high chairs so the trays can slide into place.    

Oh, and how  about a number to call--a working hotline--where a soothing voice picks up on the other end, hopefully a young mother, who calms the old folks down and runs to the rescue.

It's a small request.  That's all I ask.