I’d like to think I’m a pretty relaxed Mam, especially for a relatively naive first timer.
I don’t pick up the little man as soon as he wimpers, and I don’t worry about him being passed from Billy to Jack, (or rather Molly to Jan), every place I visit. If Sophie the Giraffe falls on the floor for a second I’m not out like Bree Van de Kamp with the Milton and boiling water. I didn’t even lose the rag when Daddy strapped his 6 week old son to his chest and proceeded to clip the overhead bushes in the garden. Even the child’s nappy was full of creepy crawlies afterwards! All that said, I got an awful fright one day last week.
I go for a walk everyday, sometimes twice a day. I find it great in the afternoon, when his majesty refuses to sleep – he’s a nosey little bugger and he knows he’ll miss something if he’s snoozing. But the Bugaboo is the business, and before I reach the end of our street he’s out for the count.
On this particular day, I headed off for a walk around 4 o’clock. I needed a few bits for the house, so the undercarriage compartment of the pram was full to the brim with groceries. When I got home, Daddy was home from work so I asked him to bring the pram, which was heavier than usual, up the 2 steps at the front door. I went inside, had a brief, “what’s the craic with you” chat, and then asked that the pram be brought in. I didn’t realise anything was wrong until I saw his face. The little man had woken up, started kicking about, and the pram was now on its way down the short driveway, headed straight for the street. I never saw the big man get from zero to sixty so fast, and I wasn’t far behind.
Because the pram started to pick up speed, it tipped over when it fell off the kirb. Cue the fishwife wail. You think you’d be embarrassed in a situation like that, your neighbours with a birds eye view of your failings as a mother. Needless to say, that is NOT your first, second or fifteenth thought.
There was no car coming down the road, thank God, but I think we would have gotten to the pram on time even if there had been. It did tip over, but Daddy managed to break its fall. The baby was fine, he cried only at my reaction, but it could have been so much worse. It took one cuddle to calm the baby down, but I needed a bit more work! Daddy said, “It’s ok, these things happen, he’s fine.” I have to admit – to myself and to Daddy – that I don’t think I’d have been so calm if the roles had been reversed. The words of wisdom that followed surprised me too. Daddy seems to have this parenting thing sussed…“He’s going to give us a lot more frights like this over the years, so get used to it!”
