Have a Seat

Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum. Left: The old one. Right: The new one.

Last weekend, I called my folks’ house, and my dad picked up the phone. “Dad,” I said, “I think we’re going to have to buy a new car and you’re never going to believe the reason why.” “Oh yeah?” he said, totally taking the bait. “Why do you have to buy a new car?” “The baby’s car seat won’t fit in the back of the Lexus.” Needless to say, he laughed and laughed. And laughed. Eight long days ago, in an attempt to be decent future parents, Chris and I battled wind and temperatures in the teens to practice putting the baby’s car seat in the back of the car. It wouldn’t fit. Once it was buckled and at the correct, safe, and legal angle, the front passenger seat couldn’t straighten back up. Not too worried, we called Chris’s brother. Before we were married, Chris bought the current car, a 1999 Lexus SC300 (a coupe, in other words), from him and his wife. They have two kids. Surely he would know how to fit a car seat into the back. Chris’s brother gave us a couple tricks to try, which got us to the borderline legal point with the car seat. The problem? The passenger seat would have to be ALL the way forward and upright. For me, this meant having my legs digging into the dashboard with my knees to my chin. Chris couldn’t even fit. We had planned to carpool and commute to work this way—with the baby in the car seat—until October or so, which we thought would be a good time to buy a second car. This obviously was not going to work. Not yet panicking, we did some research. We must have a really big car seat, right? Let’s just find a smaller one, we thought. Well, it turns out that no car seat is compatible with our car. Yes, we did find one that was a couple inches smaller, which would at least make the car seat position legal, but that didn’t solve the knees-up-to-your-chin problem for the passenger. Holy crap, we thought. We might have to buy a new car. Now, this wasn’t absolutely tragic. We had planned to buy a new car—just not yet. We had the moolah earmarked, but we also had a baby due shortly and a house to close on in a couple months. The timing was not exactly perfect. Still, the more we discussed it, the more buying a second car now rather than later made sense. Just going to my doctor’s appointments requires a lot of logistical juggling with only one car. And that’s without a baby! Plus, being cooped up on maternity leave with a) no car or b) dropping Chris off at work first was not terribly appealing. Maybe we had been naïve to think a single car would work for us with a baby, we realized. So on Sunday, we started test-driving cars. I awkwardly heaved my 9-months pregnant self in and out of car after car in utterly FREEZING temperatures, thus developing a renewed love of seat warmers. We started with the Hyundai Genesis (VERY nice, but too pricey), followed by the Hyundai Santa Fe and Ford Escape. We liked the Santa Fe a lot but didn’t really care for the Escape. After a lecture from the sleaze-ball at the Ford dealership about buying domestically, we called it a day. On Monday night, we test-drove the GMC Terrain. This we liked. Apparently, so does everyone else. They’re scarce and the only ones available were more loaded than we wanted (or, more specifically, more loaded than we wanted to pay for). Still, we really liked the Terrain and made our best offer. GMC did what they could, but we had to walk away. Tuesday night, we went to the Chevy dealership to try the Equinox, but they had none available and neither did anyone else. So we went to the Kia dealership and tried the Sorrento. I know what you’re thinking—Kia? Really? Surprisingly, the Kia Sorrento was very, very nice. Who knew? Still undecided, we went back to the Hyundai dealership and drove the Santa Fe again. And yet, we STILL were undecided, so we returned to Kia and drove the Sorrento again. Secretly, I was leaning toward the Santa Fe. It felt way more comfortable—the Kia was quite stiff—and I preferred the beige leather interior of the Santa Fe to the black leather of the Kia (hello? Kids = crumbs, and black shows every little speck). But I was just certain Chris wanted the Kia. Heading home we discussed it, and lo and behold Chris confessed that he too preferred the Santa Fe. We rush into no decision, so we agreed to sleep on it. Around 11:00 p.m., Chris flipped over in bed, totally wide-eyed. “I think we should get the Santa Fe,” he said. “I totally agree,” I replied, incredibly relieved that It. Was. Decided. Wednesday night we returned to the Hyundai dealership for the third time. And after this trip, we came home with a car. And it’s red. Why red? Back when we lived in the DC condo, we had only one parking space. Because Chris’s car said “Lexus” on it and mine said “Pontiac,” I was strongly pressured to sell my precious bright red convertible that I had paid off with many, many payments of $148.56 throughout college. It took weeks for me to agree to do it. I loved that car. I had driven along the Malibu coast with the top down in that car. I had driven across the country with everything I owned in that car. I had paid for that car. Still, I finally sold it—with the understanding that I would get to pick the color of our next car. And so, three years later, because a certain red car left a hole in my heart, I automatically selected red for the Santa Fe. And yes, the car seat fits.