stroller anxiety

so lately i have been obsessed with strollers.  finding a new one, wishing i had the right one.  i see other parents gliding down the street and in stores with their $700  fancy Bobs, Orbits, and Bugaboos.  Life seems so effortless for them.  I picture myself man-handling our sit and stand plus Baby Trend, the kids screaming, the lower basket jammed full of our lunches, diapers, my bag, my computer, footballs, baseballs, and even a baseball tee stand on occasion.  everything about it spells ‘effort’. 

but then it hit me.  the stroller isn’t my problem.  the stroller isn’t what stresses me out at night.  it’s the chaos that the stroller contains that stresses me out.  i picture myself attempting to load up three kids in ANY stroller and all I can think is “freakshow!”  I know no matter how much my stroller costs, no matter how smoothly it folds up, or what shade of mesa orange it is-it’s still going to be loaded up with 3 (probably) screaming kids, lunchs, diapers, baseballs and footballs and tee-stands, computers, and life.  and no matter what, when you load that much into any piece of material object, life gets heavy and it takes an effort to move forward.  

so, i have come to bite the bullet and realize that we will most likely look like a freakshow 🙂  and people will make their wonderful comments like: “well you have your hands full” “are they all yours?” and my least favorite, “here let me help you”  for some reason I don’t like to be reminded that simply opening a door requires help. 

so i suppose this little bout of stroller-crisis is simply my way of mentally preparing myself, and realizing, that soon the chaos of my life is about to triple.  and it’s silly of me to think that a $700 dollar stroller will make life any easier.  and in fact, even when they are screaming, and i’m sweating while i fight to push the 100lbs loaded into a piece of aluminum and plastic around corners, i know that i’d rather have an overflowing stroller that an empty one.  and you can’t put a price tag on that.

……and lincoln just ran out of the bathroom naked, wearing only a fireman’s hat and shouting, “happy ballentine’s day!”  i wouldn’t trade chaos for sleep and sanity anyday.


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