Recently, I came across a reel on one of my social media platforms: a short clip showing a young toddler asking her mother to place her newborn sibling in her toy stroller. The mother agreed and the rest of the clip was an adorable walk around their home—the little girl carefully moving hazards out of the way and pushing the stroller with her sibling, each time repeating how careful she is being.
Sucker that I am, I read the comments section. It was deeply divided between those who said this was a terrible idea and those who thought it was super cute. The cute faction pointed out that the little girl was being really careful, that the parents were close by, the baby was okay, and so on.
I’m a firm believer in the “whatever floats your boat” style of parenting. Parents should be allowed to make choices that are the best for their family, and every family and situation does look different, so there is a wide range of parenting strategies, choices, and behaviors that parents can implement as long as it is safe and healthy and has a positive effect on their family. However, I do have an anecdote to share regarding strollers and siblings.
When my second baby was just over a week old, we decided to venture out of the house for a short walk. I was recovering well, the day was relatively warm, considering it was in the middle of winter, and our small house was feeling a little claustrophobic with myself, my 5-year-old son, newborn, and parents all hanging around. I fed baby and burped him, then placed him carefully in the stroller. I strapped him in, making sure the seatbelt lock clicked, adjusting the straps over his teeny-tiny shoulders.
My mother, eager to leave, asked if it was necessary to strap him in so tightly—we’re just going for a short walk, after all, and anyway, he was so little. “Yes,” I replied, “the rule is, if baby is in this stroller, he is strapped in.” I gently tugged a blanket over him and draped a light blanket over the top of the stroller so he wouldn’t be bothered by the icy wind or bright sunlight.
We made it out the door, we even made it around a couple of blocks before I started feeling a bit tired and sore. We had just turned into our street when my enthusiastic 5-year-old asked if he could have a turn pushing the stroller. Sure, I said. Don’t run and be careful! He was great and so excited.
When he saw a bump in the road, he attempted to lift the front weeks over it. Carefully, of course. But he hadn’t realized how light the stroller was and pushed down on the handlebars too hard. The whole stroller tipped over. I was standing right beside him, my mom and dad a few steps ahead of us. They turned as I grabbed the stroller to right it, my eldest already apologizing.
My dad, a medical doctor, later mentioned to me that when he turned and saw the stroller had tipped over his immediate thought was that we needed to get to the emergency room as fast as possible. He thought that baby might have broken bones or a fractured skull. He was getting ready to run ahead to the house to get the car.
But as I righted the stroller and pulled the blanket back, there baby was, fast asleep. He hadn’t even shifted position, thanks to the sturdy harness and straps that I had adjusted before leaving the house. Peaceful, perfect, totally unaware of his grandparents freaking out and his brother apologizing.
This had happened when my preschooler (bigger kid) had been pushing the stroller, was being careful, I was right next to him without a phone or any other objects in my hands that could have distracted me or prevented me from intervening immediately, with other responsible grown-ups walking just in front of him. Accidents happen, no matter how careful or safe you are. No matter how many responsible adults are in the room. No matter the intention of the action. It takes a second.
Our lives could have changed that day. My eldest could be struggling with guilt for hurting his brother. We could be facing a lifetime of medical complications and crippling medical costs. When considering these alternate realities, I say a prayer of thanks for that sturdy harness and for the protection we received that day. As a leader at a mother’s group once said to me, “Our children are our greatest treasures. Why won’t we do everything in our power to protect them?”
by Nicole Hastings 
by Katie Brady 
