Monday 11 May 2015

Armed & Dangerous (The Adventures of L-Plate Gran)



It is becoming clearer by the week that it's impossible to navigate modern city streets with a baby in a buggy and the current meagre allocation of upper limbs. Take the other day. It was very windy with a side order of drizzle. Little G was kicking off because she was overtired and I'd hustled her into the buggy to walk her to sleep without the requisite yellow spoon and small plastic biscuit (don't ask).

I'd mislaid the buggy bag strap, so I had to hold my bag on one arm, which meant negotiating passersby with a one-handed manoeuvre that would have caused me to fail my driving test. And then the badly packed and poorly zipped baby bag decided to shed its contents all over the pavement.

So here's the dilemma. Do I abandon the buggy and rush around collecting stuff - risking someone walking off with Little G, (currently at WW2 siren level) or do I sacrifice all her snacks, spare nappies and favourite toys for the sake of preserving her for posterity?

Had I two pairs of hands, I could have held the buggy with one pair and picked up the stuff with the other. A prehensile tail might been an acceptable alternative. Evolution isn't all it's cracked up to be.

Luckily, a nice elderly gentleman took pity on my predicament, and helped collect my stuff for me, and a couple of mums with buggies formed a human shield round Little G. But it did make me wonder. If plastic surgery can augment other parts of the body, why not arms? Temporary ones, maybe. At least for those of us elderly inadequates left in charge of very small children.

To be continued ...   ...


9 comments:

  1. These abandon-baby or what moments are such a challenge. I recall seeing someone in a public loo, baby in buggy outside the cubicle and her leaving the door open rather than wee in private and leave the baby unprotected. I offered to watch the baby, assured her I'm police checked, but still she wouldn't. What a sad world where we can't trust anyone and have to wee in public.

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  2. I've done a future blog about this. So sad. I daren't take my eye of her for a second...and this is in ''safe'' St A.

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  3. It is a dilemma. Baby always comes first. I'm so pleased some kind people came by and supported you as you got it all back together.
    I don't need to ask about the yellow spoon and small plastic biscuit. It's always something they just can't live without. Me? I just need my handbag with my purse, cards, keys, mints, lipstick . . . Woe betide should I leave home without them!
    It's amazing the organization required simply for getting out of the house with a baby, isn't it. You have done well thus far! :)

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  4. This brought back not-very-fond memories of when my boys were tiny. The Jamie Bulger case has made paranoiacs of all of us.

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    1. Indeed.... I am petrified of letting her out of my site. Even when she is sleeping safely in my locked garden here, I'm on constant watch

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  5. ..p’raps a reincarnation as Spiderlady, with the usual number of arachnid limbs ?...

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    1. I want to be Wonder woman,,I wonder about enough stuff already!

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  6. It makes my hair stand on end to remember how we all used to leave our babies outside the local shops in those huge prams. We never batted an eyelid at it.

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  7. Oh goodness, you're bringing back memories now! If I am ever lucky enough to achieve gran status, I'm going to read all your posts here again! To remind me of the pitfalls!! Excellent as always. Maybe you could enlist the help of one of those many handed Indian goddesses? Just looked them up…looks like you could take your pick from 8 to a zillion!

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