Just the other day, I found out that some countries think we’re strange for using a stroller. Can you believe that? Do you mean to tell me that Americans are wrong about something? When was the last time that happened? Uh. Hang on, the President just tweeted again . . .
I love my stroller. It keeps Luke comfortable and safe while providing me with something to lean on and a cup holder for my tasty beverage. There’s also the added bonus of being able to use it as a battering ram for the times I have to navigate dangerous terrain, like the aisles of a grocery store
There is nothing more dangerous than grocery shopping during the holidays, except maybe an angry wife. Correction, holiday grocery shopping is the second most dangerous situation I have ever faced. I once had an elderly lady ram my cart out of the way so she could get the last box of Jello chocolate pudding mix. A ghost of Black Friday past that always haunts me is a little old man trotting down the aisle after a thief who had stollen his cart. “Come back! I just want my list.”
I’d like to see that gramma play chicken with me now that I have a new weapon. Your cart versus my baby stroller, in the canned food aisle, any day lady. Maybe I’ll take the last can of prunes just to spite her.
Like most things, I laughed at baby wearing before I had a kid of my own. Now I’m finding out that a surprising amount of other countries think differently when it comes to this invention of convenience. I’m looking at you Haiti, Indonesia, Nepal, South Africa, and Mexico.
There’s a child psychiatrist from Nairobi, Frank Njenga. He claims that a stroller is the ultimate version of “pushing baby away from you” Way to go with the dad jokes Frank. He goes on to say that wearing baby is better because it makes them feel safer. The idea is that safe babies are happy babies.
The ads and pictures always make baby wearing look so glamorous but I know they’re fake. There’s a gorgeous mom, all smiles, no bags under her eyes. Photoshop does wonders right? Somehow, Mom always looks showered and hair brushed. She’s even wearing fresh clothes, that haven’t been puked on yet. Where did she find the time to do that? I’ll give her a pass on that because the ad team probably had wardrobe and makeup help her out that day. But where they really get me is that they never show dads baby wearing. That’s probably because we all want to look like we’re Luke Skywalker carrying Yoda but we wind up looking like the chest burster scene from Alien.
I’m all for the idea of baby wearing. I even went out and bought Bex a Moby Wrap. Again, the pictures make it look great, comfortable, and even easy to use. So tell me why it was wadded up in a knotted mess and tossed on the floor within five minutes? Because I don’t do origami, that’s why.
So I decided to get creative by going off and making my own carrier. It would be one that required no twisting, no looping, and definitely no wrapping. I even had a marketing plan in place too. If it worked, I’d slap an IncrediDad logo on it, sell a million and retire to the Bahamas. Too bad for me, the IncrediCarrier never left the prototype phase.
First you find three tee-shirts and cut them armpit to armpit. Now you’ve got three loops of fabric. Drape one over your shoulder diagonally, like a beauty queen sash. Now drape the other one on your opposite shoulder. The third one goes around your waist. Tuck the baby in and you’re good to go. In theory, it worked. He was secure and comfortable for the entire walk from our apartment to 7-11. The only problem, the tee shirt material kept stretching out until it was too loose to hold him.
So I went back to the Moby Wrap. It took a lot of practice, a few meltdowns, and a couple of YouTube tutorials to figure out how to tie it up but we finally got it. Now he’s comfy and we’re comfy, Best of all, no one will look at us like we’re tourists if we visit South Africa.
I’ll still bet my stroller against aggressive shoppers any day but for cooking, laundry, walking the dog, or just tricking Luke into nap time I’ll wrap him up. After all, it keeps him near and dear to my heart. How’s that for a dad joke Frank?