My first time out of the house alone with A did not go as planned. And that is putting it mildly. My husband, Kyle, was able to take 3 weeks off of work when A was born, and during that time he pretty much did everything for me while I focused on healing from my c-section and getting the hang of breastfeeding.
I was so fortunate to have him there and I will always cherish that time that we got to spend together as a new family of three. However, during this time Kyle was figuring out how to use all of the new baby gadgets and most importantly for this story, the stroller. That damn stroller…
One of the first days when it was just A and me, I decided to go into my work and introduce my girl to my co-workers. I dressed her in a cute little denim jumpsuit, maryjane shoes and a cozy hat. I put on the only non-maternity, non-sweat suit clothing that fit me, threw my hair up in a messy bun (at least my kid looked cute) and drove to work in my new mom fog.
When I got to work I took the stroller out of the back of my vehicle and fiddled around with it until I was finally able to get it set up and put the bucket seat on top. Honestly, I was ready to turn around an go home at that point but I put the effort in to leave the house so I went inside and had a nice visit with my work family. After about a half hour, A had had enough and we were ready to head back home. (I love how babies are such an easy out of any social situation.) A couple of my co-workers walked me back to my car and once again I was fiddling with the stroller. I was starting to get embarrassed because both of these women were mom’s and I just kept thinking how they must have thought I was so out of my element. For the record, they are lovely and ended up helping me fold up the stroller. I quickly put the stroller in the back and hugged my friends goodbye and set on my merry way back home where I could put my sweats back on.
As I drove home, I was mentally giving myself a pat on the back for getting out and having a successful outing without any major hiccups. And then the person in front of me slammed on the breaks and I in turn was forced to do the same. From the back of the car I heard a big thud followed by the sound of glass shattering. No, It’s not what you’re thinking, I hadn’t been rear-ended but instead the stroller had somehow shifted when I slammed on the breaks and broke my rear window! How does that even happen?! I guess in my frustration with the stroller and my need to get home as quickly as I could, I didn’t check to make sure that I had put the stroller down flat, it must not have even been close. Talk about mom brain!
I was in total shock. I drove through the next light and pulled into a White Spot parking lot and called Kyle sobbing telling him that I’d broken our car. After I explained what happened he was just happy that A and I were ok. We had the car fixed the next day, and since then it has become one of many stories that could only happen to me. There is a story about me, my jetta, blue bin recycling boxes and a missed university exam, but that’s for another day. As for my first solo outing with A, I use this story now to make my new mom friends feel better. When they tell me that they’re nervous to go out with their new babes I just tell them about my disaster and assure them that they’ll do better than I did! I’m my own cautionary tale!