Time Flies

Can you believe it’s already been a month since Etta and I met?  We’re slowly, but surely getting ourselves into a routine around here.  Oscar no longer loses his cool each time his sister wakes up in the night (which thankfully is not often), and despite the fact that her chest rattle is still pronounced, he appears to ignore it now.  It’s become similar to the noise of the cars passing by the house, I guess.  I notice it more than he does, actually, especially when I listen to the two of them right after they fall asleep each night.  I’m not sure who is louder, Oscar with his snoring or Etta with her raspy breathing.  Together, in stereo, they have moved me to use my headphones when I watch television on my laptop at night, just to tune them out a little.

I broke down this weekend and admitted that I was going to have to make some adjustments if we were ever going to leave the house again.  I’ve managed to figure out how to get us into the car easily, and car rides have been our outing of choice the past two weekends.  Both kids seem to love them, and it’s a sure-fire way of getting them to nap.  I’ve also figured out how to get us through a shopping trip at Targ3t.  Sadly, though, if we are to do anything other than drive to and from Targ3t on the weekend, changes need to be made.

First, I bought a new child carrier.  I managed to wreck my back the other day by lifting a tiny little book.  That’s how old I am.  Wearing Etta in her sling is no longer an option, so I got one of those ergonomic carriers, but without all that extra padding, etc.  Not too hideous, I think.

I also bit the bullet and bought a double stroller.  Given our car situation, obviously, any double stroller will be used solely at home (parks, etc.).  Hence the need for the more usable baby carrier – I can carry Etta and push Oscar if I’m ever brave enough to head to the zoo – I’m psyching myself up for that this coming weekend).  Since we’re about to move to a neighborhood that is far more stroller-friendly, though, I figured I’d try to help Norma’s knee by getting a stroller so she doesn’t have to wear anyone. 

I’ve clearly been avoiding making this purchase.  I’m not entirely sure why.  Maybe it’s because double strollers are so incredibly expensive.  Maybe it’s the fact I worry that Oscar is not going to let me push him in a stroller much longer.  Maybe it’s because there’s some negative link in my brain to owning one (although I’m not sure what it could be other than their ugliness).  Whatever the reason, I am the proud new owner of this:

It very well may be the largest stroller ever made, but for whatever reason, it’s the only double stroller that I like (and since this is last year’s color, I’m saving 34%, and you know I love a sale).  I’m just hoping that Nanny Norma is big enough to see over it while pushing.  The picture above really doesn’t give you the sense of just how big this thing is.  You know you’re in trouble when the manufacturer posts a picture with a notation in bold that this product “fits through standard doors.”

Thinking through all of this, it occurs to me that one of the reasons I’ve held off on this purchase is that pushing a double stroller really announces to the world that I am a Mom.  I know, I know.  I’ve been a mom for a couple of years now, but having a second child pushed me into a new level of motherhood.  

Being the mom of one child was really pretty easy.  We were highly portable.  Our equipment was minimal.  We threw our tiny little Quinny stroller into our tiny little Mini and were on our way.  If people saw us, they’d see a woman with a small child out and about.  Now, there is nothing easy or portable about us.  When people see us, they see a harried woman with two small children, one draped on her and the other either screaming on the ground or in a cart or stroller.  Pushing the gargantuan monstrosity that is this particular stroller (weighing ~80 pounds all in with both kids sitting in it), I am far more visible than I had been before.  I am also no longer a woman with a child.  I’ve become a mom with two young kids.  Somehow when my children outnumbered me, I lost my status as just a woman and became a mom instead. 

When we’re out, I no longer get little smiles from other moms or remarks about Oscar’s cuteness.  I get comments like “you’ve really got your arms full.”  I get offers of assistance.  Pitying glances.  Acknowledgements that I do not appear to be capable of handling things on my own.  Somehow this stroller makes all of that even more real.  Buying it made me worry that the next step in my evolution as a mom will be to purchase a station wagon (a Volvo cross country, naturally; likely in navy).  See, I’ve already taken the first step mentally.

When I was planning on having a second child, none of this really occurred to me.  Clearly, I thought about the fact that life would be more difficult.  That it would be much more challenging to simply get out the door.  I never thought about the way people would see me, though.  Or, more accurately, the way I would respond to the way people appear to view me.  Actually, maybe what is challenging is not the way other people see me, but the way I see myself?  I’ll have to think about that a little.   Is this why people say that moving from one to two children was far more difficult than simply becoming a mom?

May 18, 2010 Posted by Oscar and Etta's mom | Etta, Our family, Shopping | 12 Comments