You're not going to believe it

Funny, reading that last post.

Two weeks after uploading that inspired little essay, I was put on modified bed rest. Fourteen weeks later my darling daughter Eggberta (don't worry, not her real name) was born via another emergency/scary c-section. How scary? They nicked my bladder during the surgery. I had to wear a catheter for a week while it healed.

The bed rest?  Sucked as much as you might imagine.

And here we find ourselves at the end of January. Little Eggberta will be 6 months old next week. Man. My mother was right: time speeds up as you age.

So yeah I lept. Lept and fell. Flat on my face.

Of course, there are a million stories lurking behind all that.  So many thing to tell, in fact, that I've been hesitant to even start. Plus, there's the full on catastrophe of trying to raise two kids so close in age in New York. Which also sucks as much as you might imagine. Especially in Winter. (For the record: snow + strollers do not mix.)

But I'm ready now. Ready to get back to blogging and writing and art-viewing whatever else it was I did before I stopped being just MinervaJane and became MinervaMommyJane.

So stay tuned. I have a lot to say.

Another Thing Mamahood Taught Me

After 36 years, 9 months, 20 days and 34 minutes on this planet, being a mother finally taught me the secret to peaceful living: proper planning & organization!

My friend Mark would be proud, I think.

Mountain Buggy Strollers In Brooklyn

MAS in his Mountain Buggy Urban Elite


First off, let me say that I don’t really think you can get by with one stroller or one baby carrier anymore than you can get by with one pair of shoes. Sometimes you need a sandal, sometimes you need a sneaker and sometimes only a rain boot will do.

In the best of all possible worlds you’d get a lightweight stroller for hopping on and off subways, a rugged jogging stroller for marathon training (see how funny I can be?) and a chichi but durable Bugaboo for urban restaurant and shopping excursions.

But. Financial circumstances being what they are, forced to make a compromise Ebronis and I were when MAS entered the world.

So we bought a Mountain Buggy jogging stroller. Because I had—still have—this idea that I’m going to get back in shape this summer by training for the NIKE 10k. Not that I really have all that much more to lose—skipping the entire third trimester was a really great way to forgo the whole mommybody thing. (And no: I don’t recommend it as a strategy: a 2.5 pound baby is a frightening thing.

Back to the stroller.

Things I love about my Mountain Buggy Urban Elite:

The rugged wheels handle the often-crappy Brooklyn streets & sidewalks without once jostling the baby awake.

A swiveling front wheel makes turning city corners a breeze but it also locks into place for stability on long runs.

The water bottle holder puts a cold drink at my fingertips.

The seat is extra comfy and MAS has no trouble napping out.

The entire seat and sun canopy snap off for easy cleaning.

The $50 car seat clip meant I never had to wake MAS when going from car to stroller to apartment. (If you have a colicky baby like I did, you’ll understand the true value of such a feature.)

Things I Hate About My Mountain Buggy Urban Elite:

Since it weighs in at 23 lbs there’s no way I’m lugging that thing up or down any subway stairs soon.

The wide wheelbase makes for a stable ride over a variety of terrain but also means I can’t get into certain narrow Brooklyn storefronts.

There’s no coffee cup holder. (Hello people: caffeine is the only antidote to infant-induced sleep deprivation. Sheesh.)

Keep in mind that this thing is the SUV of strollers: its overall appearance is mountain bike meets REI fashion. Not surprisingly, maitre d’s see us coming & cringe. Some, like the folks at Chestnut, mask their chagrin so well they deserve a medal for the effort.

Given all the above we’ve decided to purchase a second lightweight stroller for subways & restaurants. A used Maclaren, for example: 11 pounds or less & folds into near nothingness.

Got one?

When Daddy Chooses The Day's Outfit

After He Peed Into His Own Mouth...

MAS is my first baby. And while I read up as much as I could during my seven month pregnancy, there are some things book learnin’ just can’t prepare you for: like the way little boys love to pee whenever their genitals are exposed. A little pee never hurt anyone I figure, so I’ve been occasionally remembering to cover him up with a wipe during a diaper change and occasionally forgetting… At which point I either change him or just swab both of us down and go with it. But yesterday, on our stroll around the hood—christ! It was 60 degrees!—I saw this thing called a wee blocker at Area Kids on Montague Street here in Brooklyn. (I think you can also buy it at One Step Ahead.) It’s basically a cloth egg that fits right over his penis. (Machine washable of course.) It works like charm. Necessary? Nah. But for ten bucks he looks awful cute & we both stay dry.



(And yes, he did pee into his own mouth once. But you know it really didn’t seem to bother him as much as you might think…)