Getting out of the house

Yesterday, Isabel and I were invited to the park with our friends Julie and little Will. I thought, that is exactly what we need to do. Fresh air, lovely day - perfect reason to forgo sleeping while Isabel does to take a shower.


Getting out of the house is another story. Do you know how much time you have when a child eats every 2 1/2 hours? Not that much. Don't forget that the feeding itself can take up to an hour, which leaves you with about 1 1/2 hours. But, you have to change the diaper, figure out the new stroller, put her in a car seat, figure out how to get the stroller in the car, pack a diaper bag, guesstimate the actual weather and what extras she'll need - essentially enough layers to protect her in a snow storm even when its 70 degrees outside. Then, get her in the actual car and determine the best way to get everything loaded. Should you leave her in the house and load the stroller? Should you load her in the car and load the stroller? Which choice would less likely end up on the 5 o'clock news - "woman's baby suffers in car seat while she attempts to leave her house." Luckily, you pick one and your all loaded. Oh, and you didn't forget your own sustinance (a sprite) but you did forget extra diapers. Run more run in the house and then you are off to the park!


That leaves you about 45 minutes left to enjoy the day. After spending the 15 minutes to get there, you get everything out of the car (you brought the stroller instructions just in case) and adjust the new diaper bag the most efficient way possible for your first jaunt. Look how comfy our little girl is!

Looks like its totally worth it, sort of - but in about a year look how much fun she could be having! (One of Isabel's many suitors, Will)

About 15 minutes into the walk, Isabel doesn't want to stay in the stroller - so I carry her the rest of the way back while maneuvering the expensive and practical stroller with me. We make it back in time to figure out how to get everything back in the car.

At this point, I am thinking I can get Izzy home in time to eat. No such luck. We spend our car ride home listening the loving sounds of her screeching cries. She cried herself to sleep - which left me feeling a little guilty and slightly relieved. I rush in to the waiting arms of my loving parents, who quickly whisked the starving baby from my arms and fed her the bottle I had spent warming between my legs on the car ride home - only to figure out how to work the car bottle warmer 2 minutes from home. Just call me McGiver.

Bless our sweet hearts.