I drive a Suburban. I don't really have an option. I really should have a van. That would fit us a lot more comfortably. (I have an excuse: I don't possess the skills to drive a loaf of bread.)
A suburban has three rows: The front, the back, the back-back, and then there's the back-back-back (for all of the groceries and golf clubs). It's an age old argument: Who gets to sit in the front, who has to sit in the back-back. "Listen," I turn around and tell them "We are SO fortunate to even HAVE a back-back. Be grateful!" I am sure they only cringe to hear me say this time and time again. But it is true. (I am really big on gratitude around here.) I know I am not alone in that I love that moment, that very short moment, when I load the kids in , shut the door, and then take that SLOW, SILENT walk around to my door. Perfect, peaceful moment.
The front seat is always the most desired. Sometimes an actual race ensues. At times, someone gets knocked down or crashes into the car from the force of their determined speed. For an outsider, it would be a ridiculous sight. I realize that. My kids have a natural reflex now to hop into the front seat and hurriedly lock the door. As if someone is going to open the door and rip them from their acclaimed position in front! I can physically feel their race of adreneline.
Wow. It's hard to watch. Solution? I assigned everyone a day. From oldest to youngest, Monday through Saturday. When it's your day, you get the seat. No question, no complaints, no matter how many times we are in and out of the car. "It's my day."
I know I don't have it all figured out, but when you find a solution that works, for YOUR family, it's like an epiphany. Lightning strikes and the whole world makes sense again. Those moments that make you think, "I can do this. This Mom thing."