The Story of a Stroller

Remember when you were expecting your first baby?  We had planned a weekend to visit Ohio.  As it was the only weekend we'd be in Ohio, I knew that there would be a surprise baby shower.  So, in advance of that weekend, we walked into Babies R Us, and they handed us a gun for shooting desired items.  Do you remember doing the same thing?

Remembering being handed a similar gun for shooting items when we were getting married, I thought of how we shot a lot of items just because it seemed socially appropriate to have them.  However, I've never used a butter dish.  Ever.  Even if it did match the rest of the dishes.

So, we were holding this item-shooting-gun at a baby store, wondering what exactly we'd need with an infant.  For anyone in this phase of life, I think the answer is, "not much!"  You need a carseat, diapers, some clothes, and depending on your baby, maybe a pacifier.

Of course, you need a stroller.  Ten years and four children later, we've used a lot of strollers over the years.  A stroller to hold the baby's carseat, a double stroller to hold baby #2's car seat and his older brother.  A sit-and-stand stroller to hold baby #3 and his two older brothers.  A jogging stroller.  A double jogging stroller.  And this stroller remains.  The umbrella stroller.

Here in Montana, my daughter and I took our last walk with the ten-year-old umbrella stroller.  Having seen many good days, it's falling apart.

The umbrella stroller got a lot of use in Nevada, as Miss I tried to give up naps and was cranky in the evenings.  We used it in Georgia and Florida before we realized that Miss I could scooter along with the rest of us, riding on Char's foot.  The stroller made many laps around our old development in Ohio, but also went for rides in our old developments in New York and northern Ohio.  It's visited lots of zoos and helped out on many paved hikes.

I've never been sentimental about giving up diapers, but I can be very sentimental about strollers.

This stroller may have been a bit frightened when it arrived at our current campground.  The stroller witnessed, as it rode into the park, a big circle of toothless men cleaning their guns and drinking beer.  The stroller continued on into the park and rode by a domestic dispute which needed to be corrected.  The stroller thought about staying at this campground for only one night.

The stroller's desires were vetoed, and we stayed here for a week.  It was a good week of breaking down the prejudices of the stroller's owners.  The woman and the cat in the campsite next to the stroller taught us a lot about gardening in pots and caring for tomatoes.  The people at the campground provided s'mores and sightseeing advice to all of the stroller's former occupants.  The stroller ended up finding them to be very interesting and sharing people.

no one minded our kids climbing absolutely anywhere to play with the park's bunnies

Although the stroller never did get out of the back of the truck, here's a few of the views the stroller saw from its confinement in the truck bed.  Views suggested by the people at the campground:

underneath a hidden waterfall

Little Bitterroot Lake

Of course, the stroller came to this location partially to see Glacier National Park.  The views here were incredible!

sundress and the snow!

Back at the campground, the stroller was able to see a moose, and watch its old occupants get ice cream and run through sprinklers.  The stroller sat empty at some monkey bars when Miss I hopped out to climb, and the stroller barely held her weight as she rode to go see a kitten.

The stroller may now be relegated to a trash can, but in its place are a bunch of memories of its four occupants, love, locations, and lessons learned.  Life moves on, marked for a moment by the story of a stroller.