Dear Stroller: Thanks for the Memories

Baby A's Chariot

Right now, I’m waiting for Baby A to fall asleep. It’s nap time and normally we would be coming back from running errands and having breakfast. His little eyes would’ve gotten heavy as we rolled down the driveway and by the time we made it to the elevator he would be asleep. I would then transfer my 25-pound bundle of joy to his crib, where he would reach for puppy and sleep for two hours (three if I’m lucky). Not today.

Today there were no errands to run so we went to join the playground set. A lot of running around followed by a ride home in the stroller modeled above should send him off to dream land, right? Wrong. So as I sit here, listening to him try to settle down I look back on our 16-month relationship with our stroller.

1. It was in the stroller that we found out that Baby A was afraid of the dark. Walking home after having dinner, he’d cry when we were in the night but stop once we hit a street light. At first we thought it was a fluke until he cried during an entire after-dinner walk through the retire community where my mom lives.

2. The first time he drank from a sippy cup he was sitting in his stroller watching kids play in the fountain at Desert Ridge Shopping Center in Phoenix.

3. Baby A’s first real throw-up was while we were eating at Sauce in Scottsdale. Sweet potatoes everywhere. He, me and the stroller were orange.

4. Each Wednesday the stroller carries Baby A around the farmer’s market when he has experienced numerous tastes and smells for the first time. Where else can a kid learn to love asparagus, basil and cauliflower?

5. Finally, and this memory will continue for a long time, thanks to the stroller for allowing Baby A to see and experience the world and meet new friends. Whether it’s playing with our bankers and the students at Starbucks, or exploring San Francisco or Palm Springs, these four wheels help him get outside of the four walls that are home.

Dear Stroller: Thanks for the Memories

The Wanderer

As an only child, there are things about me that I know are not necessarily well suited  for mommyhood. For instance, I need to have complete alone time at least once a day or else I get grumpy. It doesn’t have to be long; however, 30 minutes would happen in a perfect world. But when you’re a mom of a pre-toddler, you can’t even go to the bathroom without a little someone crawling in. Normally, I do get some time. However this past week hasn’t really been conducive for that to happen so when the chance to take a walk all by my lonesome presented itself I jumped at it.

What was supposed to be a quick jaunt to the grocery store turn into an hour long meander through Westwood Village. No stroller in tow. No husband to share it with. No email or phone calls that needed to be sent, answered or made. First, I got a coffee then I went to the grocery store. From there I took the long way around and ended up at a boutique I used to shop at frequently, Monica’s on Broxton. There I browsed for a while. (There are two things that I’m thinking about.) Basically, I just wandered. I didn’t think about anything of importance but just walked where my feet took me.

Eventually, I made my way home and now that I’m here I miss the wanderer.

The Wanderer