It
was all about the car seat, the baby car seat.
You
know the type—the ones new moms or dads hold on one arm while transporting a
sleeping baby? The ones that rock and have flexible sun shades? A few months ago,
my two-year-old graduated out of her portable car seat. She didn’t grow out of
her baby car seat, she’d just finally made the weight requirements necessary
for the front facing chair. The transition happened without a hitch, she
happily took to her new ride…until today.
One
of the perks of being so small is that the baby car seat is her back-up. Today
she needed her back-up seat for a friend to drop her off. So, I packed her baby
car seat into the car next to her big girl’s seat and went back into the house to
gather a few more belongings for our trip to my friend’s house. When I walked
back to the car, there sat Felicity, happily smiling and cozily ensconced in
her baby car seat. Naturally, expecting reason from my two-year-old, I told her
she needed to sit in her big girl’s seat.
Devastation,
complete, tear-drenched devastation was followed by my wrestling of her into
the other seat. A little girl’s dream, her accomplishment had been crushed.
It
seemed so small a thing, moving her from the baby car seat to the big girl
seat, but in her little world, it was huge. And why shouldn’t it be huge? That
seat sheltered her on her first car ride home from the hospital. Almost every
day of her little life she spent some time in that seat. It was a cozy,
comfortable place.
I
paused.
How
often do I take refuge in the cozy comfort of a loved place that maturity
dictates I move beyond? Compassion should frame my response to my daughter, but
also the knowledge that it is for me to teach her how to let go of beloved
comforts and embrace the maturity of new spaces. Then I need to remember that I
too, must move sometimes beyond comfortable places. And pray that I have the wisdom
to recognize when a new maturity is being asked of me.
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