Wednesday, February 5, 2014
Motherhood FAIL of the Week: Stroller Wars
Monday afternoon Noah was in an especially ornery mood. I don't know if it's because he's teething (yet again) or because he woke up screaming for no apparent reason at 2:30AM, but whatever the cause he was not his usual friendly, placid self. Never one to let the realities of parenthood intrude on what's left of my social life, I took my cranky son out to meet some friends for lunch. Noah managed to rally for most of the meal, though he didn't particularly enjoy any of the baby food buffet options I had brought along and instead chose to make a meal out of Pirate's Booty and lemonade. Eh, you win some you lose some. When it was time to leave the restaurant and go on our merry way, I picked up Noah to put him into the stroller so that I could run an errand or two before heading home. Well, the Muffin Man was not having it. I attempted to get him to sit down in the seat so that I could fasten the harness, but he squirmed and kicked and screamed and made his displeasure known to the entire restaurant. I picked him up, calmly told him that I needed him to cooperate with me as I couldn't possibly carry him, the diaper bag and our leftovers while also pushing an empty stroller, and then once again tried to put him in the stroller seat. This time he not only screamed more loudly, but he also straightened his body out like a plank while simultaneously throwing his head back with tremendous force. This particular chain of events would not have caused a problem had I been using our normal stroller that's built like a tank, but for quick trips around town I have a foldable lightweight stroller that weighs less than a cocktail umbrella. The force of Noah throwing himself against the back of the stroller caused it to tip over backwards, which in turn slammed the back of Noah's head against the hard tile floor and resulted in his wailing at the top of his lungs as tears streamed down his face.
I admit that I kind of felt like the kid got what he deserved for acting like a little sh*t. Now before you go and call child services on me, let me assure you that was only a very, very fleeting thought and I mostly felt terrible that he'd hurt himself and concerned that he could have a concussion. Based on the looks I received from the other diners, they were both horrified at my sub-par parenting skills and annoyed that I had ruined their own lunches by having the nerve to bring my child into that establishment. After comforting my injured child, I did my best to gather up all of our stuff and what was left of my dignity, and I somehow managed to exit the restaurant while simultaneously carrying a 20 pound child, a 10 pound diaper bag, and an empty stroller.
I'm happy to report that Noah did not sustain any permanent physical damage. He is his usual cheerful self today and is busy playing with toys and pushing the boundaries of what I will and will not allow him to do. However, I think it's going to be a while before I take him to a restaurant again, so my social life is currently on life support.