Yesterday was hard. I was trying to get the kids out for a walk before a 10am online camp for the 8 year old. There was much resistance from the 3 year old who didn’t want to go but also didn’t want to be left behind. There was probably a good deal of exasperation, cajoling, and yelling on my part. Finally, when we were literally half way out the door, the 3 year old desperately wanted his hat. So I locked the stroller on the steps and turned back inside to get it.
Only to see out of the corner of my eye as the stroller slowly rolled off the back steps, tilt backwards and crash down the three steps, landing on it’s back with the baby still buckled in. It was horrifying. And scary. And there was screaming and crying from everyone – baby, 3 year old, me.
We didn’t get out on our much needed walk after all.
The baby was fine. She has a doozy of a scratch on her head. But she nursed and we called the pediatrician and they told us what to look out for and gave us some good reassurances. Basically if baby vomitted more than once and was lethargic, we should call back. Also if “she just doesn’t seem like herself.”
There is something reassuring in this last directive – it reminds me that ultimately we as parents have to learn to know our child and trust our instincts about them.
The baby is fine. She is back to being her happy exploratory self. A little clingy and needy, but that is who she is at this stage.
The stroller is also fine. I was really worried that it wouldn’t be fine. This is actually the second time I’ve had it go down some steps. The first time, when the eight year old was a baby, there was no one in it and the frame broke. But the folks at UppaBaby were able to fix it up. Our eight year old stroller, bought as a steeply discounted floor model, continues to be a workhorse for our family.
And then the rest of the day happened. The eight year old went to online camp, the three year old ran feral. I fell asleep, sewed some masks, made dinner while the Husband watched the kids. The rains started. We got dinner on the table early, the kids helped Husband clean up, and we had time to play UNO before bedtime.
So then in the end it was a pretty ok day. I read somewhere that all that matters about a book is how the last chapter makes you feel. I guess some days are like that too. Funny how at 9:30am the day was the worst day ever. And by 9:30pm the kids were in bed, and it was a pretty good day.