In this modern world of convenience, there are a number of ways that on-the-go parents can strap their brood to their bodies so as to maneuver more easily and accomplish normal tasks. This is nothing new, people have been doing it forever, but the sheer number of products on the market for accomplishing this are outrageous. We own several. 2 types of Moby Wrap: a single huge piece of fabric that you are supposed to wrap around you in puzzling ways, The Ergo-baby: a frontpack of sorts, The Maya Wrap: which I have dropped two babies from now, and the infamous Baby Bjorn: easily the manliest of the group.
I only know how to use the Baby Bjorn with any degree of success. It is color coded, you don't have to wrap anything, and it is black and silver - like the Raiders. It's pretty freaking cool. When I am stay-at-home-dadding, it is the only way I can go out to get shit done, like shopping, or going to the park, or anything else that involves leaving the house. Now, today - it was left at the sitter's house. I was bjornless. As you may or may not have inferred from some prior posts, I create full on hour by hour plans for my dad days - it's how I stay sane. If it's on the list I HAVE TO DO IT. Or else I go bananas. Now on my list for today was going to Costco. It's fun. They have free samples, and big jars of pickles - don't judge me. At any rate, once I realized that the Bjorn was not here, and after my panic had subsided, I attempted to use the other 4 baby cuffs to little fanfare or success. The Ergo Baby has a maddening clasp in the back that I couldn't reach once Miles was in it, so I grunted and stretched behind me like an overweight yogi for about 10 minutes, then threw it across the room, where it is even now being used as a dog bed by Sophie, who is the only one that understands me anymore. That one was out.
Next, I tried the Maya wrap, resulting in baby drop # 2, mentioned above. Luckily it was over the bed, and no harm was done, but I probably wouldn't want to be dropping babies all over Costco. It's bad for P.R.
That left the Mobys. These things have a 10 step procedure for how to tie the fabric to your body before you even attempt to put the baby in. Ridiculous. However, there is a decent photographic instruction manual featuring smiling women of various ethnicities, so I gave it a go. Whaddaya know, it worked! I was able to tie this contraption to me in a way that looked vaguely like the cheerful women in the pictures. Sweet. Now, there is another 10 step procedure for how to insert the baby into this knotted, uncomfortable web on my torso. Miles protested soundly, but I was able to slide his baby butt into position after a few failed attempts. I walked around the house with it, it felt OK, So I was ready to go to Costco - why not? In a moment of genius, I decided not to untie the wrap at all, just to drive to Costco with it pre-anchored to me. I gathered the kids and off we went.
Fast forward to the Costco parking lot, which always is horrendously packed with people. Isla is sobbing in her carseat because Miles has been screaming all the way there (most likely due to all the manhandling that happened aforehand). I have completely forgotten how to place the baby in the wrap, which is now droopy where it used to be tight, and vice versa. Miles is getting louder and louder as I attempt to force limbs through fabric loops and knots over and over again, but no matter what I do, he is supported by either no fabric at all, or by my sweatshirt pocket, which his feet keep finding their way into. It is now hot as well, the sun beating down on me as I wrestle with this demon of a baby wrap. My face is bright red, and I am sweating like Rush Limbaugh in a room full of female law students. At this point Isla looks at me through her own tears and says: "daddy, I don't want to go to Costco."
"I know, Isla, but it's on the list. it's on the list. it's on the list" I swear to God I repeated those last three lines like a sick mantra as realization of how absolutely ridiculous I was being hit me. 15 minutes later we were having an outdoor tea party in my own backyard, the Moby is in a place where it will never harm another soul, and the world is right again.
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