A little venting and a lot of laughing at myself - because I need to

I can’t give specifics, but I found out something this morning that upset me quite a bit. I’m torn between whether to care at all or whether I should dig a little deeper to find out the story behind it. Another part of me wants to let it ride and see what happens, but I know I may never find out the whole story and it feels too passive. Which makes me wonder if I even need or want to know. Do I?

I probably need to answer that question and then decide what to do next.


Monday of this week I arranged a strollercise date with three other ladies who are all Losing It In Ottawa. Our plan was to meet at the parking lot of the Experimental Farm at 10:00.

I was looking forward to this all week. I had Thursday and Friday off to spend with Brandon and this would give us a good activity outside the house for the morning. My only concern was whether he’d actually let me put him in his stroller. The last time I took him for a walk with it, he used it with very little fuss, so I was hoping for a replay.

I was ahead of schedule all morning until we took longer than I realized to get packed up and get out of the house. I turned on the car, saw the time and knew I was going to be late. I was also not 100% certain of where I was going. I’ve lived in Ottawa 10 years and this was my second trip to the Experimental Farm. The first one was in 2002, so it’s been a while. (No, we don’t get out a lot.) I knew generally where I was going, but when I got to the farm, the “parking lot” part of our meeting place had me stumped. I really should have asked which lot - then I wouldn’t have stopped at half a dozen before I arrived at the right one.

Fortunately, my fellow exercisers were still patiently waiting for me. I quickly assembled the Chariot, threw everything in and got Brandon out of his car seat. When I tried to put him in the Chariot, I faced full-on opposition. So, I decided to go with it. I’m not interested in forcing him into strollers when he’s not interested. So, he held my hand and we straggled along behind the other ladies and their compliant, okay-with-strollers children. (I’m trying really hard not to be jealous of them, but the green-eyed monster is alive and well. Why won’t my child just enjoy his stroller days?)

Less than about 2 minutes in, Brandon’s shoe fell off, so I had to stop and fix it. The ladies kept going, but waited for us further ahead on the path - presumably when they realized Brandon and I were missing. That was when I threw up my mental white flag and told them to go on without us. We were all there to exercise and somebody should get to benefit from the trip. I decided to enjoy the scenery and a leisurely walk with Brandon.

We occasionally bumped into the rest of our group here and there, but we lost them completely about 30 minutes in when Brandon became fascinated by a particular tree. Not long after we left said tree behind, Brandon decided the stroller looked really good and he climbed in on his own. Being a responsible mother, of course, I fastened the straps for safety.

He can’t stand being strapped into a stroller. I don’t know why, but he was getting pretty freaked and wouldn’t calm down, so I had to undo the straps, at which point I begged and pleaded with him to please not stand up while the stroller was moving. If he’d been attached to my bike, this wouldn’t have been an option, but we were just walking with the jogging kit so I didn’t see any harm in it. 

I took full advantage of my newly unencumbered state and started booking it to attempt to catch up to Amy, Lara and Sara. (HA!) I don’t know exactly how far I went, though it was a pretty decent distance. I finally accepted there was no chance to revive my attempt at social strollercising and I turned back to head to the car.

It didn’t take long for Brandon to decide he’d had enough of the stroller again. When he started to climb out, I was tempted to cry. What I didn’t know was that it was about to get worse. Within 5 more minutes, he wanted me to carry him. 

I tried reasoning with him. That almost never works with my 2-year-old.

I tried telling him I couldn’t carry him. In his mind, this is a lie because I carry him all the time (but not for a kilometer to get to our car)!

I tried talking him into getting back in the stroller. He looked at me with his big, tired, blue eyes and started crying when I suggested it.

So I picked him up and started walking. Carrying over 34lbs of a little boy (who is snuggling up and trying to fall asleep) while pushing a stroller down the street. All the way to my car. I was sure my arm was going to fall off, but thankfully it didn’t.

The good news is that I did benefit from the trip after all. I got aerobic exercise and some unexpected strengthening exercise in. (I’m just not sure how I’m going to input the leisurely walk carrying a 34lb child into my calorie counter. I’m just guessing, but I bet that isn’t an option.) The bad news is that strollercising is officially off the list of possible activities for the future.