Walking with baby. The Dream vs Reality
You take your baby for a light stroll, they quickly drift off into a peaceful slumber, snug and warm in their pram.
You return home feeling refreshed, baby safe in the land of nod. You have a sit down and a hot cup of tea, while the baby sleeps soundly outside, and you nonchalantly flick through the latest copy of heat (that you got from the shop on your lovely walk) and conclude, this baby lark is a piece of cake!
The baby wont stop crying and you decide (reluctantly) that your last hope, is a walk. You pack the screaming baby into layer upon layer of warm clothes, wrap them in blankets, stick on their hat, and put them in the pram. Still crying.
You locate the nearest shoes you can find (normally your husbands) and the closest coat, and get moving.
Once you are moving, the crying stops, but the eyes are open. Looking.
You stare at these eyes harder than you’ve ever stared at anything in your life….. willing them to close.
You keep trying to look away, telling yourself if you do, then when you look back they will be asleep.
It doesn’t work. The eyes are still there…. looking right back at you!
After 20 mins of walking, there is hope! Yes…the eyes are looking droopy! They are definitely starting to close…. slowly…. slowly…..just a little bit more…..
At this point… you will encounter one (or all) of the following…. a siren blaring police car/ambulance/fire engine/ice cream van/loud lawnmower or barking dog!!!
PING!! The eyes are open again!!
Five minutes more walking, with more staring at their eyes.
Yes!! They are starting to close again…. you look away, telling yourself that you will wait at least 30 seconds before looking back.
You wait 15 seconds.
Still not closed!!! Jesus christ child!!
You are 2 mins from home and they are not even asleep *sigh*… you go round the block…again!
FINALLY after nearly 30 mins of walking… they drift off!!!
And you…. are tired…hot…. and need a wee!!
You finish your second lap of the block and as they have been sound asleep for a good 10 mins decide to go home.
You fantasise about a peaceful wee, and a hot cup of tea.
What you get is half a peaceful wee.
The other half you spend trying to deny the fact you can already hear them crying, telling yourself it must be a cat… or another baby… surely…. SURELY?!
Sorry….you don’t have a cat and there are no babies around for miles.
You attend to your baby, holding back your own sobs, because basically, you just spent 40 minutes walking, for ten minutes of sleep (for them), and half a peaceful wee.
By Luara Hovard.