Normally, 3 for 3 is a Good Thing

When I was pregnant with Natalie and a sweetly clueless mother-to-be, I registered for an all-wood highchair. It was a carefully researched decision, which is to say I based my choice solely on the fact that I grew up with a wooden highchair, and I figured anything good enough for my Mom when she started having babies in the 70s must be good enough for me.

I received the requested wooden highchair at one of my showers -- I had three, the advantage of being the daughter of a senior pastor who is dearly loved -- and initially, I was very pleased. It looked so sturdy sitting in the corner of my kitchen. So homey. So maternal. I was sure it would be a fixture of my children's lives for years to come.

Then Natalie got old enough to actually sit in the highchair, and its downsides were suddenly revealed. Turns out, it helps if the highchair tray is actually close enough to the child so they can reach the food. This one was apparently built for Hagrid-sized babies, as it was a good 8 inches away from the back of chair even when it was pulled all the way in.

Natalie, who was so petite she wore 6-9 month clothes at her one-year birthday celebration, would pull food off the tray and keep it in her lap while she was eating, as if she she needed a halfway point on the trek to her mouth. The seat had so much room (and the buckle was so flimsy), she could easily stand up in the chair and do a little dance routine.

But I couldn't picture any other highchair in my kitchen, so we soldiered on.

Connor came along, and by 10 months, he was having his own issue with the highchair. Mainly, he viewed it as a prison cell.

I have no clue how he got that idea.

So he started plotting his escape. Which explains how I walked into the kitchen one day and found this.

(Yes, he's really dangling there. Somehow, he managed to transfer himself from the chair to the kitchen counter when I was out of the room -- and then he just hung there, like one of those sticky frogs that stick to windows. For the record, my hand is underneath him while I snapped the shot, but I couldn't NOT take the picture, OK?)

That was the end of the wooden highchair. One eBay transaction later, we were the proud owners of a modern, plastic highchair that was much better at containment.

That is the highchair Teyla inherited a few months ago. Its in decent enough shape, although the cloth liner has seen better days, and the vinyl pad underneath is cracking and rotting. But it worked. We were golden.

Or so I thought.

Problem is, I underestimated Teyla. (I have a feeling I'm going to be saying that for the next 20 years.) That girl could put Houdini to shame. She refuses to sit in it, preferring to eat while she stands, and since it didn't come with seat belts or harnesses of any kind, I have no way to force her little rear end down. Whch is why most meals at our house end like this.





So I'm done. I'm ready for a new highchair, one that actually confines my child at mealtime.

But since I haven't really been in a Babies R Us since that fateful day I registered for the wooden highchair seven years ago, I don't have a clue where to start. I just know I want a highchair that works well for toddlers and that is easy to clean. The cloth liner has pushed my OCD buttons one too many times.

What recommendations have you got for me? Who has a highchair they love?

*Updated to add: I love the suggestions about a booster chair. Unfortunately, the only table that will fit in our kitchen right now is a small, round, table for four (known in the restaurant biz as a four-top). So I don't have room for Teyla to sit with us at the table, nor do I have a fifth chair upon which to attach a convertible seat, which is why I'm looking to invest in a separate highchair. We do have a bigger table with six chairs, but it's in the carpeted dining room right now, which is obviously not a kid-friendly option. On a side-note, you could keep praying for our old house to sell so we could get into a bigger place that would enable us to eat together as a family before the kids are teenagers. Amen.