32 PUNCHMAGAZINE.COM PHOTOGRAPHY: ANNIE BARNETT {sloane citron} seat works for a newborn until they are applying to college— all you have to do is reconfigure them. Some even come with instructions. But unless you’re a fifth-year Stanford engineering student, it is impossible to figure out how to do this. If you’re lucky, you’ll be able to get it to work for whatever age your child is now. Forget about ever getting it to work for another age. The instructions come in 12 languages, all of them indecipherable. You are on your own. Because I have seven grandchildren four and under, even three car seats are not enough to handle the various sizes and shapes of these little munchkins. That means that I am forever adjusting them, with not enough experience to do so easily and with each seat having its own particular way of making it bigger or tighter or smaller or looser. And then, there are times when I need to move several seats from one car to another. For this, I need a meditation moment and a gathering of patience. Plus, a solid hour or two to fully accomplish this dreadful job. On top of all this, the straps become too tight or too loose, or tangled or twisted; it’s a bloody mess. As someone now on his 11th small child, with more likely, I’m hoping that some brilliant mind might move their attention from creating more dumb game apps of spiders that you smash with oversized hammers and focus on something truly important: car seats. There is a bundle of money to be made. Just remember to name the first one after me. If you went into my home today, you’d believe that we’re running a day care center. There are quantities of highchairs, cribs, bouncy seats; vast numbers of dolls, stuffed animals, books for every age and situation; boxes and boxes of toys: trains, cars, bubble machines, fire trucks, dump trucks, army trucks; art materials from crayons to coloring books to markers. Our bathroom—where there is a good-sized tub for kids—has floating lights, bath toys, baby shampoo; boxes of diapers, sizes 1 through 6, are carelessly stored in closets throughout our home. The laundry room has stacks of tiny clothes, many with no apparent owner. There are single socks, odd shoes and half-eaten snacks hidden away in odd places. Our pantry is packed with fruit roll-ups, breakfast cereal, lollipops, Bamba peanut butter puffs, baby food, and “snacks” of all kinds; our freezer holds macaroni and cheese; mini ice cream cones; push-up popsicles and more. Outside there are wagons, scooters, bikes, kinetic sand, Lego sets, baseball gloves, golf clubs, Frisbees, “floaties” and an entire container of swim toys. My home is a minefield of children’s things. I am forever tripping over them, including the three detested car seats in our garage. Three of the most horrible, devious devices ever made; it’s like they’re taunting me every time I see them. In the world of children’s devices, I can tell you from solid experience, there have been many improvements. Highchairs, for instance, fold neatly into smaller spaces, their trays slide and pop into action without a hitch, and they are simple to clean. Diapers are a breeze with the best of them showing which side is front and which is back. Different sizes make for a better fit and the adhesive straps stay in place. New, well-designed portable cribs simplify life. Press a button or two and they conveniently fold up into small, easily transported packages. And the best improvements are in strollers. They fold up easily, have cupholders and are lightweight. But then there is my nemesis: car seats. While the world has gone from landlines to smart phones; where you can find out in a moment why your six-month-old has red spots on his forehead; where you can call out into the air “Play Power Rangers” and (Poof!) music comes streaming from a small circular device, there is one thing that has not changed: car seats. If it has been a while since you have dealt with one of these pitifully designed contraptions, here is an update: they have not changed in more than 30 years. They are still the frustrating, tangled mess of straps and metal bands that you dealt with when you were buckling in your children. Okay, I’m sure the manufacturers of these tortuous devices would tell us that they are safer and better, but where it counts, they have failed us miserably. When you buy your car seat from Target or Amazon or Walmart, the box states that the a fortune to be made
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