Today, Ursula and I left the house.
This is sort of a big deal.
Don’t get me wrong: we’ve left the house before. But it was always with someone else, like Nana or Daddy. Today it was just the two of us.
We live in a walkup.
Three flights of stairs. No elevator.
I have a heavy baby — 10 pounds! — and an even heavier stroller.
Here’s how we did it:
I put Ursula in her wrap. (She’s still not sure about it, usually fussing after a few minutes against my chest.)
I use a backpack as a diaper bag.
So with baby on my chest and her stuff on my back, I was able to carry the stroller (collapsed) down the stairs.
Setting up the stroller was no picnic, but we survived. Then we rolled on over to a local coffee shop to swap new-baby stories with two women from our prenatal class.
And then I did it again, bundling an overtired-and-ticked-off Ursula into the wrap as I struggled to fold the stroller and lug it upstairs.
We survived. With only one meltdown. (Ursula, not me. Although I'd understand if you thought otherwise.)
Who needs a gym membership when you can have a baby?
Getting buff, one staircase at a time....