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Stroller Rage

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It’s a typical afternoon at Fairway. Crowded. There’s little room to get around, especially with a stroller. And as I’m making my way down the vegetable aisle, The Bear (age 2) bellows, “Move! Out a my way!” That’s right Little Bear, go ahead, channel your Mama. At least one of us can get away with vocalizing our mounting frustration.
With almost four years of stroller pushing under my belt, there’s little that hasn’t come my way. I’ve gotten a flat tire in Central Park; I’ve been out in thunderstorms without a rain shield; I’ve even had a stroller tip over backwards because of too many shopping bags hanging from handles. But every now and then, there’s something that really throws me for a loop. And usually, it involves another pedestrian.
For instance, take Exhibit A: The lovely lady who let a door slam shut, just before I managed to wedge the stroller inside.
Or how about Exhibit B: The gentleman who decided to climb over my stroller and child, rather than move an abandoned shopping cart out of his way.
Or how about Exhibit C: I’m crossing the street on the Upper East Side, moving across the crosswalk towards the curb. A woman is standing in the middle of the ramp, blocking my way back onto the sidewalk. I keep aiming in her direction figuring she’ll step aside. Instead, she stands her ground. I approach, and before I can say “Pardon me,” she lets loose. “Who the F*** do you people think you are? What the F*** is wrong with you, aiming right at me.” I am speechless. For a moment, I consider responding, but stop myself. Maybe she’s crazy, not mean. Plus, I’ve got to be the ultimate model of polite behavior for our boys.
Of course a few bad experiences don’t outweigh all the kind gestures I’ve experienced. The people who have stopped to open doors. Doormen who have carried the stroller up steps. Friends who have helped me wrestle the kids and our gear into a Brownstone. It’s moments like these that I try to remember when I feel myself about to let loose on someone who exhibits little sympathy for those of us carting 100 pounds of kids plus stroller around Manhattan.
Then again, maybe I shouldn’t hold my tongue. My two year old gets to say whatever he wants, whenever he wants. Why can’t I?
Original Post to New York Moms Blog.

Breast Feeding Product Reviews

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Angela at Breastfeeding 123 gets my vote today for hardest working, most diligent blogger. My eyes practically jumped out of my head when I saw her latest post.
Angela has compiled a fantastic collection of breastfeeding product reviews. Basically, she found reviews from all the breastfeeding bloggers out there, and provides links to the sites. If you click here, you’ll find reviews of breastfeeding products, books and clothing. If you can think of it, she’s got it. Here’s a list of the reviews:
Breastfeeding bras
Breast pumps
Breastfeeding accessories
Breastfeeding art and calendars
Breastfeeding bloggers’ stores
Breastfeeding and parenting books
Children’s breastfeeding books
Children’s breastfeeding toys
Sewing your own breastfeeding products
Nursing bracelets
Nursing covers
Nursing necklaces
Nursing pads
Nursing pillows
Nursing shirts
Breastfeeding videos
Kids’ products
Bravo Angela. What an invaluable resource you’ve created!

Buying A Stroller

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Walk into our apartment and you slam right into our stroller parking lot. We’ve got the Jane Powertwin, our double stroller; a Maclaren Quest, and an Inglesina Zippy (it held an infant car seat when the kids were newborns). No one believes us, but we use them all on a regular basis.
Despite my affinity for these three beasts of burden, I’m looking for additional stroller suggestions for my brother and sister in law who are having their first baby. They live in a city with a long, snowy winter, so ideally the stroller should be good in the snow. Do you have any words of advice? Products you love? Ones to avoid?
As for chez moi, I dread the day when The Bortski decides he won’t ride in the stroller anymore. I’m already getting a glimmer of it. Today he insisted on pushing a child sized shopping cart around the supermarket. Buyers beware.