The literal balancing act of getting out the door with a baby

This is my home. (I’m no architect, so don’t take this as a literal rendition, but I have included the highlights.)

You get the idea, right? A lot of time went into this one...

So the only thing harder than running from the first floor to the third to help A find his binki is coming from the third to the first to get out the door with A in my arms.

Side note - Aidan outgrew his first carseat. You know the one with the helpful carrying handle and harness so you can contain him while trying to get out the door, and you don’t have to put him in and take him out of his carseat in the car while he’s sleeping. A word of advice to my first-time mommy-to-be’s: if you’re going with a Chicco Keyfit, make sure it’s a Keyfit 30. 30 means 30 pounds is the limit (as opposed to 22). Hindsight’s 20/20.

Since we no longer have the luxury of keeping Aidan contained as we scramble to pack the car with all required items (stroller, spare binkis, food, changes of clothes, burp clothes, diapers, wipes, entertaining toys… to scratch the surface), getting out the door has become a lot more challenging. And that’s if we don’t have anything else to carry.

But we always have something else to carry.

Like today, when I went to the grocery store. That should be easy, right? Wrong. To the above list add eco-friendly reusable bags, a shopping cart cover (so Aidan doesn’t pick up the feces particles commonly found on a cart handle while chewing on it), and a strategically draped blanket over Aidan’s head (because who can carry an umbrella with all this other crap in your hands?).

I like to think of myself as the Rachel Ray of motherhood.

I’ll be honest. The real root of the issue is my stubborn, no-really!, I-got-this attitude. I’m just trying to prove to myself that I can do it. And I hate having to take multiple trips up and down the stairs. But most times, I don’t got it, and I end up running back upstairs with A on my hip to get a binki or a blanket or my wallet.

Why isn’t my wallet in my purse already, you ask? Because I long ago shed the extra weight of a purse to regain the valuable shoulder real estate it requires.

And when Maddy comes with us (which is pretty common, actually), it gets even worse. Just last week, Aidan – sitting quietly in his stroller waiting for me to get Maddy’s crap together and out the door with us - was nearly blown off the sidewalk by a gust of wind. I literally made a diving save to pull the stroller from the edge. Whew.

Then I wondered how many people in my neighborhood were looking out their windows, laughing at me. And/or judging me.

Ahhh, parenthood.

Yet another word of advice to my first-time mommy-to-be’s: The bigger the diaper bag, the better. When you think you’ve found the right size, go a size up. Or two. Thank me later.