The Idiots are to Blame

The entire family headed out the other night to complete some errands. Most of these revolved around the ever-growing Zach. He's getting too big and too squirrely for his infant bathtub. He's just too heavy for me to lift in the infant carseat, despite the fact that it is supposed to accomodate up to 35 pounds. The weight of the seat plus the weight of The Chunk is just too much. He, of course, needs bigger clothes. And his changing diet means we need to bite the bullet and buy a highchair. So we head to BRU. Yeah. I hate that place because I usually come out with all sorts of things we did not need but were cool or cute and thus I spend a ton in there.
So we get the Big Boy Carseat. Not an easy task, considering there is limited space and carseats these days look like giant captain's chairs. Seriously. (There will be an entire post on this, trust me.)Then we head for the highchairs. I intended on buying the real deal, but then found the space-saving Fisher Price model. I love it, Zach loves it. Done.
But then we get to the trouble of the evening. (C'mon, you know my family cannot possibly leave the house without some sort of issue.) I needed a bath seat for Zach. After doing some research, and with our experience last night, it has dawned on me that you may have no fricken clue of what I am speaking. The thing is, Zach is now trying to sit up in the reclining baby bathtub. And trying to roll over. And he is still just a little too topsy-turvy for me to sit him in a tub of water with no safety net other than my hands, when he is all slippery with soap/ shampoo. Nope. Not gonna happen. And so after some searching, John goes and asks for help. And the salesgirl looks at him like he's special and says, "Just use the Bumbo!" I'm sure she wanted to add a "Duh" on the end of that, but thought better of it. And I wonder if she has ever bathed a baby in a Bumbo. First of all, I did this at John's mom's house simply because I didn't want to have to take anymore stuff, so the Bumbo served as highchair, bathseat, and more. But the Bumbo floats. No. Plus, I wonder if she has ever tried to wash little boy junk in that seat. There is no access, and what ended up happening was Zach's Twig and Giggleberries ended up wedged between his pelvis and the little part that comes up between his legs. My future as a grandmother may rest entirely on Evan's shoulders after the experience. So no, Snotty BRU Chick, we need a real bath seat.
After 2 days of searching every retail establishment in our area with "Baby" in the name, followed by every Wal-Mart, Target, and more, we never found one and I ended up buying this inflatable tub that looks like a giant rubber duck for the low, low price of $12. Zach can sit up in it, but every direction he could possibly topple, there with be a soft surface stopping him for face-planting in water, lessening the likelihood of pesky water-filled lungs. Just when I am thinking there was a mad rush on baby bath seats in the area, I get the bright idea to just look it up on the computer. I did find a few seats, but you want to be sure that the seat you choose actually fits your kid well or it becomes a safety hazard. Therefore, this is something I wanted to buy locally.
So what else did I find out? Well, that in the 8.5 years between my kiddos, the idiots once again ruined it for the rest of us. That the seats are hard to find and that all but a few manufacturers stopped making them. Seems they provided a false sense of security, and that you really can't just leave your baby alone in the tub with your bath seat. That the kid can still drown. C'mon, really people? Seriously? And so Zach gets the big rubber ducky thingamajig.