Who says there is really a magic age when your kid just has to get out and walk?
I used to shake my head and tut at mothers like me.
Back in those luxurious days of having just one easy-to-transport newborn, I’d look at those mothers with bigger children in prams and think, “that child could walk”.
I’d look at the sturdy legs and fingers sticky with juice from a pear given not for hunger but to keep them quiet and I would wonder how the mother could do that to their child.
Didn’t they realise how ridiculous the child looked – all grown up and being pushed around like a newborn?
Didn’t they see what they were missing out on? Stop and smell the flowers. Ra ra ra ra.
And then I met with reality.
It was quite a shock jumping down off that high horse. Dealing with one, two, then three children. Working as well. Trying to juggle the school drop-off, the preschool pick-up, the playgroups, soccer. The conflicting schedules. The pressure to get shopping done before the bell goes. And I found myself hanging onto my pram for dear life.
I found myself lost when I was without it (where do you put the shopping?)
And I firmly joined the camp of pro-pram.
So now here I am, the focus of the sideways glances and infinitesimally small shakes of the head by passerby’s. Even The Daily Mail is judging us – calling it “a rather unsettling scenario”, though they do acquiesce saying it is “understandable for any parent of a headstrong toddler when time is pressing.”