I can’t say the word (foot)’muff’ without the need to force back a snigger. This, I think, is the fundamental issue I’m having with pram shopping. Except it’s not pram shopping, really, because – as I recently discovered – a pram is a very specific method of baby transport; a single species within an entire genus of baby transportation systems. The modern mother-to-be does not simply go pram shopping. No.
We took our unsuspecting selves to a well known department store this weekend, on our first reconnaissance mission into baby equipment territory. It’s a whole new world out there, and a rather intimidating one. I dressed in my best bump-revealing outfit – ill-fitting pre-pregnancy jeans with the button held together by an elastic band. I didn’t want the shop assistants assuming I was a neurotic non-pregnant woman dragging her long-suffering other half around the pram section. There’s that word again.
After some debate, much note-taking (on my part), and a little price-querying (on his), we managed to short list two potential candidates. They were both ‘travel systems’, which – to the uninitiated – means the following: complicated and expensive. I’m also hoping that it will mean we won’t have to buy any other item of baby transport until the child is old enough to drive. I reckon I could buy a small car for the amount we’re spending on this thing.
So anyway, The Road Test. You’ve got to have a play with these things before any final decisions are to be made. Incidentally, baby carriages all seem to have ridiculous names that you feel silly saying to begin with (like the footmuff thing), but it’s surprising how quickly you get into the swing of things. Earlier in the day we’d had an animated discussion about the relative merits of a Babystyle Oyster versus a Cybex Somethingorother without a flicker of humour.
We settled on a straightforward Krypton Factor challenge between the Bugaboo (henceforth the Buggeroff) and the not-at-all-Mac-like iCandy Cherry, the fruit name seeming only marginally less ridiculous than the Buggeroff, (what is a ‘bugaboo’ anyway?)
Unfortunately for our inexperienced selves, the Buggeroff is apparently something special. It seemed to warrant pride of place in the show room – colourful backdrop, individual little stage, everything. It didn’t have to share floor space with lesser models such as the Cherry. It was really, really visible, and so were we. Even more unfortunately, we didn’t fully understand a fundamental truth that more experienced baby equipment-purchasers would, I’m sure, be aware of: ‘two-handed collapse mechanism’ is code for ‘embarrassingly difficult’. We had four hands between us and that did us absolutely no good at all. After some minutes spent sweating, giggling and generally drawing a lot of attention to ourselves, we realised that 1. every customer in the baby department was assessing our potential parenting abilities and the conclusions were not in our favour, and 2. the Buggeroff was now in several bewildering pieces all over the floor.
Taking something apart is like finding your way home: even if you don’t know the route, you can usually manage it eventually. Finding your way somewhere new is very much like putting something back together again: you could really do with instructions. I must admit, after the hilarity of folding the chair part in half to get it back onto the chassis (see, they even sound like cars…) I was quite happy to stash the remaining pieces in the hood and let the next poor sucker deal with it. I’m fairly certain that being folded double is not the most comfortable experience for a newborn, but what do I know?
In an effort to prove ourselves better parents-to-be than our performance up to this point had suggested, we moved onto the Cherry, with its promise of one-hand folding. One! Well that was a lie too, but we did at least manage to get the thing apart without crushing any imaginary babies in the seat area.
In the end the Cherry won, partly due to cost and simplicity, and partly, if I’m honest, due to our technical ineptitude. They tell me it’s only called a ‘travel system’ (not a pram) if we buy a compatible car seat, and the footmuff costs extra too.
