A few weeks ago I experienced a parenting milestone that caught me completely off guard.
As a mom, I expected the tears over the obligatory first smile, first day of school, first lost tooth, etc. I shouted for joy, jumped up, and heal kicked my feet together the last day we spoon fed the kids. Making car noises or motor boat sounds just wasn’t my thing. Grandma lettered in that. I rode those peaks and valleys of the emotional roller-coaster through all the moments our children expressed their newly found independence.
So then, what threw me a curve ball?
I walked by it several times a day. This past year it acted as a piece of furniture in our house. It took up residency inside our home in the corner, to the left of our front door. It cost a small fortune and needed to be treated as such. Friends entered the house knowing it would be there to greet them. Then one morning, it dawned on me. I could not remember the last time we used it. I decided then, it’s time to sell. I logged online and posted for sale our family’s used, navy-blue, double B.O.B., Revolution, jogging stroller.
An hour later, someone messaged me. They wanted to buy it.
Wait. What?
Surprise! That basin of sentimentality deep inside me appeared out of nowhere. Could I possibly give up this equipment that served me for the past 7+ years of my life while raising babies? Could I just hand it over to another family for money? It held precious memories. It meant so much to me. I did not know these thoughts and feelings existed inside me for an item of baby gear, a stroller.
While I brushed the dust bunnies off the seats, I reminisced…
5 Reasons You’re More Than a Stroller, B.O.B.
- I will never forget the gift of serenity you gave me. Remember those times I couldn’t get the kids to nap? You called to me, promising to do your magic. I strapped those children in, handed them over to you, and strolled along behind while the outdoor scenery enchanted their eyes and your air-cushioned, rubber wheels lulled them to sleep. You even kept them dozing all the way back home and through the front door. I experienced 30+ minutes of peace and quiet all to myself. You’re a saint, B.O.B.
- You coached me through my own Biggest Loser, post-baby body transformation, B.O.B. You nursed me back into shape. When able to, I walked, ran, or roller-bladed my way to play dates at the park or the library. You allowed me to ditch the car in the garage and feel the fresh air. I experienced your secret: stress relief through exercise.
- The “Super Mom” title seemed real with you in my hands. Who knew your basket underneath, mesh pouches in back and on the sides, and zipped pocket on top could hold so much? I could always feel prepared with you by my side. Diapers, wipes, pullups, crackers for the ducks, sand toys, water bottles, bubbles, snacks, blankets, hats, sunblock, extra $ for lunch, a phone, extra pair of
shoes, etc. Anything the day threw at me, I came armed and ready along with you. You served as my mobile home away from home. - B.O.B., you escorted our family on many adventures. The kids met all sorts of animals at the zoo with you. You guided us on walks along the coast in California. You chaperoned us at amusement parks and provided respite for tired legs. You enabled our family to hunt treasure together while geocaching on local greenbelt paths.
- But most importantly, you symbolized a mother’s love. That is, B.O.B., you held and always will hold the memory of my Mother, the kids’ Grammie. She knew I wanted a quality jogger. She searched high and low for you. I rode in her car to purchase you. Our one-year old son slept, soundly and safely, in the backseat as she pulled into that store’s parking lot. Our new son grew in my tummy. When my mom drove me around, I felt safe, loved, and cared for dearly. That is just how I am sure my kids felt on journeys with you. You were one of the best gifts she ever bought for us, for me. I miss her. I am going to miss you.
The deal went down in the Chipotle parking lot near our house. I waited for the new family, all sweaty and nervous with anxiety. This Ending of an Era did not come easy for me. After they arrived, I played the proud owner part and explained all of B.O.B.’s features (even after hearing they owned the single version). Before we parted ways, my conscience reminded the two little girls’ parents to always wear the safety wrist strap. I drove home with an empty spot in the back of the minivan and in my heart. Nevertheless, I couldn’t help but smile and recall all the wonderful times we shared together. I pulled the car over and prayed for the new owners, for their new adventures to come.
B.O.B. may they love you as much as we did.
Selling baby gear is hard when there are memories attached to it.
Thank you and good-bye.
