Jan. 3rd, 2017

crimsoncorundum: (Default)
I realize that most people won't find this interesting, but I decided I'd blog about this anyway, so consider yourself warned.

It probably won't come as a surprise to any of my followers, that I'm crazy about being a mum, about having children. It's absolutely awesome. The best thing that ever happened to me, which is understandable since I have always been close to my family and these are babies and per defintion super adorable as well as family.

I love everything about having my babies, buying cute clothes and toys for them, feeding them, changing their nappies/diapers and most of all just hugging them and pushing them in their buggy.

Read more... ) brings me to the topic of this blog post. I love buggies. There's something so reassuring about buggies (and prams/baby carriages). They're sturdy, spacious and many of them quite pretty to look at (that is if you take the trouble to get something with a bit of color - for instance, my buggy is Medieval Blue and Silver - sounds elegant, doesn't it? the pram/baby carriage is Aqua - and that includes the changing bag). Since you should always bring a changing bag, you'll always have the stuff you need to change your baby's nappies/diapers, clean up and also their bottles of formula and/or gruel and other snacks. There's usually a storage unit underneath the buggy or pram so there's plenty of space. Finally, you can usually hang some shopping bags on the buggy. The buggy in particular, in fact, since the pram/baby carriage is a bit top heavy and tends to be a little unsteady if you hang too much on the handle.

For me, who's suffering from agoraphobia, holding on to a buggy or baby carriage is very reassuring. It feels as if I'm safely anchored to the ground, even under the worst of conditions, i e in full daylight, with a clear sky, in a wide open space.

On one particulary miserable occasion, one of the pram's front wheels tore and it became nearly impossible to push it. We were on the wrong side of a heavily trafficked road and had to cross, in full daylight - which meant being exposed to the full horror of the open space underneath the sky. I had to carry my baby daughter through that heavy traffic, while trying to fight down feelings of panic. My daughter and I made it across the road safely and so did my son, in the arms of his aunt, my sister, but I never want to have to do that again. Incidentally, the buggy doesn't have tires, just hard wheels, so I doubt I'll have to go through the same thing again - unless the brake breaks down, no pun intended.
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