Pram Patrol!
Well, the past two weeks have been all about establishing outings with a tiny baby and practising public pram etiquette. I'll start with the latter. What I have noticed about being out in public with a pram is the different types of people you accost, which gave me the inspiration for this blog post. I'm going to stereotype people here, purely based on my own theory that certain 'types' of people seem to be responding in a set way when I approach with a pram. It's altogether quite amusing to observe!
I'll start with elderly ladies (who seem to be the most regular daytime pavement user) who, bless them, seem to be oblivious to a buggy at their behinds. This can be forgiven, but as of yet I'm not confident enough to overtake as I feel this poses danger (I've seen others go into the road- oooh no no!)
So, I trundle along the pavement super slowly until the pavement is big enough to pass the person. I assume this is what part of maternity leave is for: giving you time to walk kindly behind the elderly. Calling out, “Excuse me!” doesn't seem to work. In general, I just appear to startle old women and I feel too guilty to keep doing that (maybe I'm still using my Teacher-in-the-Corridor voice and it sounds too aggressive, I don't know.)
Anyway, another stereotype I am spotting is the toddler- who does exactly that- toddles in front of the pram like a drunk hailing down a bus! Parents usually intervene fairly quickly and then offer me a smile as if to say, “Don't worry, you'll have one of these wobbly children soon.”
Thirdly is the fellow buggy user. I like these. Severe politeness appears to occur (empathy is a wonderful thing) when confronted by another pram on the pavement. Usually one of us waits 'lay-by' style until the other has passed, greeting one another in an abundance of, “Thanks! Thank you! Thanks so much!”
Or, if there's room for us both to pass, I am learning it seems common courtesy to lean over your pram in an exaggerated way to signal to the other parent that you are completing a Mental Risk Assessment before daring to pass their precious cargo- even though you know there's really meters of space between you.
Finally- my favourite stereotype at present- is the elderly gentleman. This has now happened to me twice: elderly gentlemen parting the pavement crowds as if they are parting the Red Sea. The first time this happened, the man was among a coach tour, and when he noticed I was behind them avec pram, called out: “Everybody move aside! Lady with a pram coming through!” He smiled at me as if he was The Man.
The second time this occurred, a gent appeared to be accompanying his wife and her friends, to which he called, “Move over, dear. Ellen! Annie! Mavis! Move over!” The huddle then divided like bowled skittles, at which point the now frenzied man was getting cross, “You're still in the way! No- come this way! You're still in the waaayy!!”
You'd think I was wielding a knife or something, but honestly gents, I am grateful for your efforts in clearing the path for me. As a newbie pram-driver, one of my concerns is that I'm likely to accidentally swipe people down!
It'd make for a funny blog post though...
Talking of funny things, my first 'independent' trip out involved me and baby going to the bank and a shop without my Husband. Now, our daughter has developed a hilarious habit (she'll kill me for writing this one day!) of blowing off extremely loudly before she passes poop, which is very helpful communication for us as parents that a nappy change is due. However, it is not ideal when you are standing in a long, silent bank queue and three surprisingly loud poo farts emigrate from a supposedly-sophisticated Silver Cross pram! My instinct- perhaps immaturely- is to start giggling, but nobody has indicated that they are likewise amused. I am then somewhat mortified when I realise their typically British, awkward response of looking away or looking down, is because they think I just let rip in the bank!! Cue a sudden mental panic! Do I quickly blame the baby with a performance of: “Oh, little girlie, pardon you??” Or do I take collective responsibility with an “Excuse us” exclamation??
By the time I'd weighed up my options to rectify the situation, the moment had long passed, so I fulfilled a British stereotype myself...
I said nothing, I sighed, I looked at the clock and in my head I ranted about how long I'd been standing in a stupid queue for!!
