Confessions of a Bad Mother: Number Four

Lyra's barely been out in a buggy...

I think maybe there is something wrong with me. I am a mother and yet I do not have a buggy surgically attached to my hands. It seems this is what normally happens when you become a mother. I clearly have a gene missing or something.

In fact Lyra had never ever ridden in a buggy until about a fortnight ago - I have always been more than happy to carry her around in a sling. The only reason I'm now beginning to think that a buggy is a good idea occasionally is because of the difficulty of carrying a changing bag as well as a baby. So we've now bought a buggy and take Lyra out for at least the occasional trip, though I feel like a bit of a fraud compared to all the other mothers I pass whose buggies seem like an extension of themselves. They steer with grace and ease and know just where to cross all the roads. I clatter about bumping into people, clunking down the kerb and running over people's feet.

Needless to say, the daily dog walk is still done with the sling...

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Confessions of a Bad Mother: Number One
Confessions of a Bad Mother: Number Two
Confessions of a Bad Mother: Number Three