It's just that I am tired of babywearing. Bennett is heavy and big and it's no fun to wear him anymore. I can still wear him and I still do (read: it has been months) yet I'd rather push a stroller these days. Don't hold your breath though, I'm not actually going to start jogging with my new pretty stroller.
Nevertheless, I did make Matty Daddy take it for a jog. (An aside: back in the good old days, before all the gray hair, Matt used to run cross-country. I can count on my fingers the number of times I have actually seen him run. UM....FIVE? THREE, maybe?) And so in my most evil voice I dared him to run. And run he did. He ran so fast the wheel popped off the front. This, of course, had nothing to do with the fact that we had FAILED TO FOLLOW THE DIRECTIONS. Don't fret. It's all good now. A trip to the bike shop means the stroller is in working order again.
It also just reaffirms that I'm not meant to jog. Me = jogging? Never going to happen. Me = exercising? Not in this life. Me = wanting another baby so I can ditch the dorky stroller? Yes, please.
Bennett's babyhood is practically just...OVER. It's done. Insert SAD FACE. He's a kid full of wants, needs, and ideas. He holds conversations. He has learned how to use the potty and even wakes up dry in the morning. I just want to dig in my heels and stop time. I want the squishy newborn days again. I want the milk drunk laughs. I want the baby snuggled up against my body in a pretty wrap. I want soft, beautiful fluffy diapers. (Preferably in pink, but I'm not picky. I SWEAR.)
I want to be skinny(er) again without doing any hard work.
So I confess: I ordered some of these. (Shout out to Jami! I CLAP MY HANDS FOR YOU.) I'm sure the package will come and I will shove everything into the back of the closet. It's almost too much commitment. I might as well tell the world that we are having LOTS OF UNPROTECTED SEX.
We aren't. Yet.
Just like how I bought a jogging stroller and have no plans to run.