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By Dahlia Rizk

The Day I Almost Threw the Car Seat Into Traffic and Just Drove Away AKA Blowoutageddon

I love my baby. I really do. She’s adorable. Her cheeks are squishy. Her laugh sounds like bells. But yesterday, she ruined my life.

Let me explain.

We’re 45 minutes into a 10-hour beginning of summer road trip to my in-laws, who I love in theory but not in group text. I’m wearing the shirt I found on Tiktok that says “thankful” but I don’t mean it. My toddler has been eating string cheese for breakfast like it’s a lifestyle choice and I’m already questioning my decisions.

We’re on our second viewing of Bluey and for a second it’s peaceful.

I’m scrolling on my phone gaslighting myself into believing I’m going to organize the pantry next week. My husband is driving like a man who thinks cruise control means “I’m no longer part of this journey emotionally.” And then it happens.

The low, slow gurgle that starts in your baby’s soul and ends in your car seats DNA forever.

I turn around.

She’s grinning.

There's no sign of poop but I can smell it and I know in my soul once I pick her up it will be everywhere.

We pull over.

My husband is dry heaving. I’m using my last wet wipe and the wrapper from a granola bar to contain the situation. I say "situation" like it didn’t look like someone detonated a diaper.

The baby’s fine, by the way. Living her best life. Covered in chaos and joy.

And in that moment, somewhere between frantically using a stray sock to clean the seat and realizing I left the backup onesie in the wash from last time, I had a moment of clarity.

I don’t want to live like this anymore.

So when we got home, I rage-Googled “how prevent blowouts car seat” and found Blowout Blockerz Pajamas.

Now, listen my friend said they're kind of pricy but I don’t care what they cost. I would have paid extra to avoid the emotional damage.

They’re bamboo. They’re soft. They have a secret poop forcefield built in like a tiny baby hazmat suit. And they’ve saved me from more disasters than I can count. The other day, we had a blowout while grocery shopping and I didn’t even flinch. I just changed her diaper and outfit and moved on with my day.

She still poops. Obviously. I still change her. Obviously But now I don’t have to burn the world down to get everything clean (and cry).

So anyway.

If you’re wondering whether Blowout Blockerz are worth it, let me ask you this: Do you like your car seat? Do you like not crying in parking lots? Do you own furniture?

Then yes. You need them.

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk. I’m here to help you out of the backseat of the minivan googling how to reupholster shame.

This story is fictional (but based on about 600 real mom experiences). I’m a mom of three, and I invented Blowout Blockerz because I want to help you skip this kind of chaos. You deserve a break. Even if it’s just from scrubbing the car seat.