When my daughter was a baby, you could tell when I was planning to visit my parents simply by gazing into the back of my car. The amount of baby gear rivaled a Babies R Us boutique, if there ever was one. Sandwiched in between my diaper bag and umbrella stroller was the all-important fish-printed bouncer. Even though it was rather cumbersome and bulky, it was my American Express of baby stuff: I never left home without it. Not only did this seat act as a secure place for my just-sitting-up babe, but it often gave her the opportunity to doze off, courtesy of its soothing vibrations and bubble-making. Despite its immeasurable value during that first year, that seat and I had a love/hate relationship. [&hellip