Monday, October 26, 2009

Pram Envy makes your money disappear. Or at least your partner's.

'Pram Envy': An emotional experience that occurs when you are walking your baby in his or her pram/stroller and you see another mother with a model superior to your own in every way. She is probably also wearing better clothes that do not have breast milk stains on them. Associated with turning an unappealing shade of green and hoping that your child will grow up to be mentally superior to the other woman's child to make up for it. 
When you try to wheel your Land Rover of a stroller into a busy cafe but find that you are mowing down chairs and tables in your wake. Meanwhile a mother with a much more compact model, wheels her child in with ease and cuts in front of you because she is not flustering over upturned tables and other peoples' squashed toes. 

I'm more of the latter. So like other first time mothers before me, I purchased one of those massive all-in-one pram, stroller and car seat systems. It seemed a good idea at the time. Mostly because I was 7 months pregnant and walking around in Baby Bunting was both frightening and tiring and I couldn't find anywhere to sit down. That, and there was this Russian couple eyeing off the same Steelcraft system as us and one of the shop staff had mentioned they only had a few of them in black left. I get like that when I see someone considering something that I have vague ideas about purchasing; I have to have it so they can't. That's reasonably evil, I know. It didn't seem to matter at the time anyway. Wolfgang wasn't here yet. I had absolutely no idea what I wanted in a pram other than it had to be safe for my yet-to-be-born. And it had to look OK. I was NOT going to buy a pram from Kmart. Plus pregnancy brought on some long lost infantile tendencies, so I think I might have been stamping my feet and demanding that we just DO THIS and GO HOME.
Anyway it's been pretty jolly good for the first few months. Mostly because I only ever use the stroller bit when Josh or my mum are around, so I've got someone to help me carry the bloody base down the filthy concrete stairs of our apartment block. It has these bloody massive back wheels which is quite good for bumps but are a total bugger when you are trying to actually go in anywhere. I took it to Hausfrau; my mum insisted that we take the pram even though all the cool young Yarraville mums were using slings and cross-over carriers. I took out a couple of tables and a man's foot. It took up the space that three people sitting down would have. Very bloody embarrassing. I mean I've already mentioned in earlier posts how bloody annoying big prams are in cafes and restaurants. The number of times I've nearly totalled myself and someone's poor child by running into it with armfuls of hot food or stacks of dirty plates. Please people, but the brakes on your prams wherever you are. It may look like a flat surface but it certainly isn't a stationary environment! God that bloody video of that woman whose pram and baby went under a train. Bloody hell is all I can say. If they play that clip one more time my heart may actually leap out my throat and land on the new rug in front of the telly.

Anyway. So pram envy. Not the kind where you stare at bloody Bugaboos and go "Ooh. That cost one and a half grand. Very niiice". No, no and no. Bloody Bugaboos. You are mad if you get one of those. Mad and unfairly wealthy. Go donate something to help starving orphans in Sudan or something.
I was starting to get very embarrassed about my giant pram. Today I convinced Josh to fork out a couple hundred for a new stroller. Say hello to the Silver Cross Fizz. Less than 5kg. One handed folding. Nice upright sitting position for a 4 month old who is already utterly fed up with reclining. And I got it in the 'Humbug' design so it is a very sexy black and white. Goodbye Pram envy. Hello trying to explain to my mum why I saw fit to spend money on two prams. I might have to have another child to justify that one. But man am I ever looking forwards to mothers' group tomorrow!

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