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I Want My Bugaboo!
Submitted by DevaD
I am not a materialistic person. I normally couldn't care less about labels. I happily wear T-shirts from Target and flip-flops from the drugstore. But when it came time to buy my stroller, I became the ultimate material girl.
"I'm not spending $800 on a stroller," my husband said when I brought up the Bugaboo for the 50th time.
"$800 is for the Frog. I want the Cameleon."
Now he looked at me like I was an amphibian.
I was furious. How could he do this to me? Why couldn't he understand that we had to have a Bugaboo? I flat out refused to be the only mother on the Upper East Side of Manhattan without one! What would people think? I'd be ashamed to walk down Madison Avenue ... not to mention Fifth Avenue! I threatened my husband that if he bought us a Graco, I'd never leave the apartment.
I know I sound like a princess, but I'm really not. (I'm not!) Sometimes, in a calm moment—usually when I get a solicitation from Save the Children or some charity reminding me of the poverty and misfortune in the world—I find I'm actually appalled by my desire to plop down a grand on a glorified pushcart that will just get barfed and pooped on by my baby.
How did I become so insecure that I need a certain stroller to feel I can make it with the Manhattan mom set? Is this the beginning of a slippery slope of competitive mom hell that will continue with preschools, pancake recipes and Vera Wang prom dresses? Or will I eventually rise above it and proudly parade my baby in a $30 stroller and send her to her senior prom in something from Target? Maybe some day. But for now I just want my Bugaboo and no amount of self-reflection is going to change that.
Submit!
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