Hungry

Having been pregnant or breastfeeding for the last 24 months I am struggling with feeling hungry again.  I do not believe in crazy diets, fads, or pills.  Losing weight is simple. Eat Less. Work out more.  I’ve always been an ol’ fashioned calorie counter.  But, like I said the last 24 months I have been sustaining another life in addition to mine so I felt it one hundred percent necessary to eat every time I was hungry and freed my self from the calorie count.  But now, well I have 30LBs of the 80 pregnancy LBs (yeah, that’s right 80, my doc was African ok!) I gained and it’s time to Eat Less.  So, yeah, its time to get reacquainted with the ol’ hungry feeling again.  Damnet.  Wish I was still pregnant. Those 500 or whatever daily extra calories were delish.   

Audtioning is like dating

As a single woman there was nothing I hated more than that question "So. . . are you seeing anyone?".  Because if you are seeing anyone you will more than likely talk about it and if you are NOT then the last thing you want to do is talk about how you are NOT seeing someone.  Its the same for auditioning.  I know that people mean well when they ask "So .  . . have you had any auditions lately" but I'm taking this moment to let you know that that is not an ok thing to ask.  If somebody has auditions going on, they will talk about it, if they don't they need not your salt in the wound.  Its the same for after an audition, if you know someone who has auditioned there is no need to ask "Have you heard about your audition?" or "Did you get that job you went out for?" Chances are if they did they would have told you.  I am not meaning to be snarky or hurtful, just taking this moment to educate friends and family of actors on the proper protocol for audition questions.  I guess I should  say, "struggling actors" if your friends with Brad Pitt or whatever, I am sure you can ask him how his audition went, but I'm pretty sure he doesn't even have to audition anymore.

Informerical Testimonials and Commerical Auditions - Oh my!

Tuesday was the best day in a long time! It reminded me why I came out to LA! Sure it was just a small informerical shoot but I still had a call time, call sheet, hair and makeup, wardrobe and lots of camera time, so YAY ME!!!  I dropped off lion paw at 7AM in Eagle Rock then jetted over to Studio City, got lost on a canyon road and just barely made my 7:45 Hair and Makeup call.  I felt so pretty getting all done up and I felt fab in front of the camera with the lights beating down, the boom looming over my face, and people looking at me in the monitor. . . if only I could have been anybody but myself! But I played me and raved about the project I had REALLY tried for a WHOLE WEEK!  Then I did some B-Roll demo of the product and was ready to go pick up lion paw and get back to my humdrum life! But no sooner had I gotten in the car to head back to Eagle Rock when my longtime agent called me with a national commerical audition that I was the PERFECT fit for!  I needed to be in WeHo by 5, it was 1:30, I had to pick up baby, go home, get audition attire, do hair and makeup - wait, I just had that done professionally - ok so BONUS, get resume, find an evening babysitter, probably should eat something, ok, I. Can. Do. This.  Luckily I found a friend who would watch him during audition but I had to pick her up in NoHo at 4, I did, she was about 6 minutes late coming to the car, which in adult time is nothing but in baby time its EVERYTHING!!! So the lion paw lost it and screamed all down Laurel Canyon road from Noho to Weho, but I pressed on, pumping him full of rice rusks and plum baby food packets.  Got to the audition location, Hail Mary Full of Grace I found an AWESOME parking space, got lion paw and sitter set up with a stroller and then jetted across the street and up the stairs to my audition.  I stopped, gathered myself, then went in, it was one of those less than 5 minute auditions, the type where you are like, wow I have been prepping for this for 3.5 hours and driving for .75 hr just to walk in for 5 minutes and hope that I have what you want!  But I did it! I did great but I didn't have what they want, but whatever.  Went out grabbed my baby, drove home and collapsed into bed, remembering the days of when juggling a full time job and auditioning was hard thinking about how juggling a babyand auditioning is WAY HARDER! But I keep on keeping on hoping for my next callsheet.

I am the people of wal-mart

Last Saturday I went on a four mile hike with my lil lion paw. Yes, I toted all 27 L-Bs of that boy down a hill and to a waterfall and then back up. It was a beautiful hike down, the rain had fallen earlier in the week making the air smell fresh and the usual California dust non-existent. At the end of the hike down there was a beautiful waterfall! I couldn't wait to get my water baby in that fresh spring, he even came dressed in his swim diaper. That was my mistake. As I prepared to put him in the water I noticed a stench from him and then all over me. As my mommy friend says "Those swim diapers don't hold shit" and they certainly don't as it was all over him and all over me. Luckily I had packed some extra clothes in my fanny pack with his diapers, I changed him and he was fine but I certainly didn't bring any other clothes for me, so I took off my t-shirt and worked my sports bra and my post baby soft belly all the way back up the hill. I was lucky because my Ergo Baby carrier covered me while I huffed and puffed up the hill. However, the hike was out in Santa Anita, just two exits from a Wal-Mart. This midwestern gal cannot be that close to a Wal-mart without going in, even if I don't have a shirt, so I did. And it was embarassing. I figured maybe I'd be lucky enough to get an entry in the people of wal-mart blog. Fingers crossed.

You got a bit of stuffing on your face. . .

I had my first commercial audition in a long time, they were looking for Mom types to do some cooking tutorials for a stuffing company. Thank you agent for finding something that I may be a good fit for in this transitional stage of post baby 1 and pre baby 2.

It was a production just to make it to the audition but I went. I lined up a friend to babysit lion paw and scheduled our whole day around the audition:

Morning nap – wash, dry hair, pick out and set out clothes.

Morning playtime – run to target with nearby playground and pick up prints of temporary headshots.

Afternoon nap – print resume, set up GPS, hot roll hair, do makeup, pack babysitting bag, eat, brush teeth, repowder, wonder what I would do if my baby didn’t nap. . .

After afternoon nap, I was ready to chase my dream but not without first having to change a diaper. Nothing takes that glamorous “this is my moment” moment away like changing stinky - sticky doo doo, especially with lion paw currently in the phase of reaching down, touching doo and then touching you. I hadn’t changed a diaper with my hair down for a long time, between keeping his hands and my hair out of the doo doo I broke a sweat on my freshly powdered brow.

When I was an accountant I used to hate that I would show up to an audition with 4 to 6 hours of math on my face, but I think that that’s a whole lot more appealing than doo doo.

Nonetheless I changed the diaper and chased the dream. In that order.

Mom Prom

Every night you get to get out by yourself as a Mom is Prom. You are 16 again, the night is yours, there is no curfew, no restrictions, the night is full of endless possibilities and you can’t stop your heart from pitter pattering. Even if it’s just a night at the movies with your girlfriend, you are convinced that it is going to be the best night of your life – because You. Are. Free.

Needing me

I’m happy that my baby now sleeps thru the night. He is ten months old today, time flies. Sometimes though, I wish he’d wake up, needing me. I miss that time together in the middle of the night, where his cries were comforted by my breast, I miss that precious time in the rocking chair. The annoyance that would creep over me just as I had laid down and he woke up for a feeding quickly vanished the minute I picked him up and held him to myself. I never thought I’d miss those days. I guess that’s the thing about being a mommy, every single day they grow up and need you just a little bit less. 10 months ago he literally couldn’t live without me. 1 month ago he couldn’t sleep without me. Right now he can’t go far or eat very much without me but every day he can go a little farther and feed himself a little bit more. And I keep wanting him to grow up. Everytime I have to pick up his heavy 25 lbs I think, Oh, I can’t wait until you can walk. Everytime I have to guess what he wants I think, Ugh, I can’t wait until you can talk. But everyday he needs me a little less and it hurts a little more. Some day he will be so grown up, he won’t even need me at all. He will marry some woman and I will just become the annoying mother in law. I never thought I’d be the type of mother to have these feelings. To want him to stay young, to want him to stay needing me, and I know those are not the things I really want for him, it must just be crazy maternal instinct or maybe maternal insanity is a better word. You grow to love something that came way too soon and forced you to give up everything you had going for yourself and you were just sure you would resent it for taking away your freedom and needing you ALL THE TIME but then you find yourself crying and blogging in the middle of the night because that little thing doesn’t need you to sleep anymore and it hurts to not be needed and it hurts even more to know that for the rest of his life, each day he's gonna need you, just a little bit less.

You know you're a momma when . . .

This is your water bottle during your workout and you ain't even ashamed

Happiness is not situational

I’m a stay at home mom, I count my blessings that I have a husband who will work hard enough to support the entire family on our own. I count my blessings that I also have a husband who is a fantastic cook, and therefore does the majority of the cooking. But he is still a husband and therefore a man. This morning I was starting to crack, no, for awhile now I have been starting to crack, I have been a stay at home Mom for 10 months now and my house is still not organized like I thought it would be, I still have not figured out how to keep the refrigerator and the bank account full, I still am toting around 30 of the 80 lbs I gained even though I run at least three times a week and am breastfeeding (cause you know “if you breastfeed the weight just falls off” – not true, not true at all) and I still can’t seem to book any solid acting jobs, though I kind of blame those pesky thirty pounds. I can’t even get pregnant with baby #2, but I blame the nursing. I seem to be failing at everything. I tried to open up to my husband this morning about my feelings and how I feel as if I have lost my freedom. He has not. I know from his viewpoint he definitely has lost some freedom, but from mine, as we all only see our side, he hasn’t lost any – he still gets to get up when he wants, go to work, take a lunch when possible, this can sometimes be alone or with friends, after work he’s free to run errands, go to the store, the gas station, the bank, all without putting someone in and out of the carseat. I can do none of these things, I can’t even do a number 2 without thinking about my priority number 1, my little one. I have lost my freedom and I am starting to crack. When I opened up to him about this this AM, when I was up at 7:30 to take care of the baby and Daddy was still sleeping, , he exploded, like men do, thinking I was coming at him for not doing enough, then he started blaming the baby, saying he needs to be left alone more, etc. etc. After some dramatic shenanigans of my own where I said stupid things like “Don’t worry, I will never open up to you again, I learned my lesson I just need to always pretend to be fine!!!”. I was able to calm down and remind him, that this is no ones fault, its not the babies, its not his and its not mine, I just needed to be heard for a moment, I just needed to speak out all the craziness that was running through my head and maybe just cry a little and be held?

I have this joke with a friend of mine that I shall someday write a book entitled “I turn to Jesus, when my husband disappoints me (which is all the time)”. As my husband failed to grab and hold me and dry my tears, I started to look up and was quickly reminded that happiness is not situational. I thought if I changed my situation, I would find happiness. Before I became a SAHM I was working 40+ hours a week as an accountant and chasing my acting dream. I was managing to get out on one audition a week and at least book one job a financial quarter. But I was miserable and felt pulled in so many directions. So I changed my situation, taking advantage of an unplanned pregnancy as an opportunity to escape an unhappy workplace and thought now I will find happiness. Now I will successfully chase and catch my dream. But I find myself changing diapers, and chasing a little one. It was so easy when I was working to blame people for my unhappiness or lack of success, I could blame my boss or my coworkers for my sadness. Now who do I have to blame? I guess it’s easy to look out at my husband and see the things he’s not doing, or the things he didn’t have to give up, but who is that helping? I need to be looking inward, looking at myself, my selfishness, my laziness, my unhappiness. I need to fix those things. I have changed my situation and I still have an undercurrent of unhappiness, whats the constant? Me. I need to look up and in instead of out at others.

While at the gym my husband sent me the sweetest text, apologizing for not being more sympathetic. Apology accepted. But the good thing about when my husband disappoints me, I turn to Jesus. :)

Mommy Mishap: God Complex

My lil' lion paw is a squirmy wormy, you can't change his diaper without breaking a sweat, putting on his clothes, you better pull out some Gatorade cause its a major cardio endeavor, in an attempt to stop him today I said "Be still and know that I am MOM" I hope I don't give him some crazy mother idolizing complex. :-/

Is he yours?

Yesterday I was waiting outside the Debbie Reynolds Dance Studio in North Hollywood to pick up a young woman I was hosting this weekend. As I was waiting a middle-aged-white, homosexual man says to me “Is he yours?” I replied, “Yes, his father is black”. And just went on playing with MY son, but inside, I was a little wounded. I had heard from my mixed friends that growing up they had heard people say such ludicrous things to their own white mothers but that was twenty years ago. I guess I didn’t think that in 2011 where I attend a mommy group with predominately mixed kids and at a time when mixed means so much more than black and white that these sorts of things were still being said. If I had seen this same man holding a Chinese baby girl, I’d be pretty sure he had adopted her and I would have had the where withal to not say something as rude as “Is she yours?” you adopted her, she’s yours. I gave birth to him, he is mine.

Mommy Mishap: Keg Stand

My lil’ lion paw is the most active nurser I have ever seen, other mommies, well at least my mom and sister agree with me. He stands and nurses, sits up, crawls around and just keeps on sucking. The other day he was into nursing and I got creative, I grabbed his legs, turned him upside down, and he never loss latch. While I held him upside down I hollered out “KEG STAND”. Feel free to judge. But I see from etsy.com I'm not the only one who thinks this way.

The case of the lil' nipple biter

This AM was the lion paws nine month checkup. I am convinced that all LA doctors are certified Aholes, but thats another topic. The lil one was supposed to get a shot today but the office was out of that vaccination so they are saving that shot for his birthday, happy birthday my son, needless to say I did not schedule his one year check up for his actual one year but I digress, today there was no shot just a TB test that involved shoving a needle into him anyway poor lil guy, but they topped it off with a cute snoopy circle band-aid.

We were home most of the rest of the day, as the Haitian was off we spent all day - the three of us in bed, eating chinese food and watching TV. Lion paw would not eat anything all day, he kept gagging and joking and coughing. I thought maybe the chinese food was too spicy or eating in bed was too complicated, so I excused us and put him in his high chair and gave him his usual niblets, same thing. I started to think that maybe my methods of feeding him only finger foods and being so proud of him fully self feeding at just 9 months old was starting to backfire, maybe he wasn't ready and I should be giving him pureed foods still? I pulled him out of the chair wacked his back a few times and he seemed fine. We went back to chill with daddy. I thought, solids aren't working today, lets make it a breastmilk day. . .ouchie, ouchie, OUCH! That lil boy done bit me 4 - 5 times which is not like him, I did the tricks my sister taught me, pushing his face into me to get him to release, gave him a firm NO and then put my breasts away even though he protested, pulling on my shirt and whimpering much like any old mammal would do to their Mama. After ten minutes I tried again, more biting. I could take no more and weaning was starting to sound really good. As it was about thirty minutes before 5:00 nap I took him to our couch for some super active playtime. My leather ikea couch doubles as the perfect baby gym and he loves to climb all over that thing! We started playing our monster game, where I crouch behind the couch and pop up my head and roar at him and he squeals in delight. He was loving it. I was crouching on the floor, he was leaning over the couch, mouth open and their I saw it - lil snoppy heads peaking out from the roof of his mouth. I screamed for the Haitian, he came running and I said - the band-aid, the band-aid, its inside his mouth!! The Haitian held him down and I used my nimble mommy fingers to scrape snoopy off of my poor babes mouth, then swooped him into one of those mommy is so very sorry hugs, poor lil lion paw must have put the band-aid in his mouth in the car on the way home from the doctors. Luckily it got stuck to the roof of his mouth and not his intestinal tract. That's why he was biting me and not eating all day - he was trying to tell me, momma I have something stuck to my mouth and I missed all the cues! After his 5:00 nap he ate a huge dinner and had a long feeding. He could finally eat without snoopy in the way.

Mommys first Fourth

When I dreamt of my first fourth of July holiday as a stay at home mommy I envisioned myself baking a flag cake or strawberry pie, dressing my son in red white and blue, myself in a coordinating nautical look, my husband's black skin reflecting off of his white linen suit, we'd be jetting off to some lovely family party to see fireworks, eating barbecue and listening to people rave about my homemade cake. But not today, today I find myself up to my elbows in Pinesol scrubbing a dirty kitchen floor. My husband is working today, yes even though he is at the highest level of sales in his company and perfectly able to take off such a holiday, I guess being a resident alien - the 4th of July just doesn't have that ring to it, until he comes home with his schedule and his wife says - You didn't take off the 4th!!? So he's working, I am home. Having no family to visit as I have transplanted from the midwest to the coast and assuming that most of my friends are visiting their local families or attending some great single NO KID parties I am treating today just like any other day. As it's a Monday that means a new chore sheet and all my weekly chore duties are just waiting to be done. As I spent most of June in Missouri to be a part of my sister-in-law bringing a gorgeous baby boy into this world I have really fallen behind on my chores. So today there is just one goal- scrub that nasty kitchen floor. I put my lil lion paw down for his 1:00 nap and hop to it - cleaning up the kitchen, wiping the counters, the table, the stove, pushing every lil speck of dirt to the floor, just as I moved the furniture, wiped the baseboards, swept and was getting ready to pull out my mop in walks the Haitian for his lunch break. . . this really breaks my Lady Gaga in the background, bra and panties, cleaning groove. I turn off the music and try to enjoy the moment with my husband. I take the lunch he brought me sit in front of the AC and eat quickly, finally he retreats to the bedroom for a lunchtime nap and I am free to get back in my Gaga cleaning groove. I was happy to use, for the second time my trusty spin mop - I didn't buy the real thing that I saw on HSN during a late night breastfeeding session but some Japanese knock off via amazon that I assume works just as well. First thing I haveta do of course is wash the mop of the LA soot that has gathered on it from sitting out on the patio of my valley home. This of course further dirties my already dirty tub and thus a second thing gets added to my musts on this "holiday". I mop the floor, I would do a before and after shot but I'm ashamed to let you see the filth that I let my son crawl around on while I'm cooking dinner, or lets be honest, playing words with friends on my phone. After finishing the floor, the lil lion paw still rests, so I scrub the bathroom tub too. I grew up in the predominantly white midwest, married to a black man I was surprised to see that he uses baby oil on a regular basis to moisturize his skin, this makes his black skin delicious smelling and super soft but leaves a ring of grease around the tub that dirt clings too. I have tried everything to get it off quickly but usually find myself spending a good hour hunched over the tub scrubbing into the greasy ring with comet and a sponge. But today I stumbled upon a simple dish brush, purchased two for 1.00 at target months ago and never used, wouldn't you know that lil sucker combined with comet slashed through my grease ring in no time. Again I would do a before and after pic but I am embarrassed to let you see the filth that exists in the tub that I use as a playpen for my son (dry of course) when Mommy Dreamest has to do her hair and make up or well, a #2. And still the baby sleeps. Lucky for me today is a long nap day and I can sit for a moment. The tubs sparkling new, the floor is clean and I am dripping in sweat waiting for him to wake and roar so I can give him a bath in the freshly cleaned tub, dress him in his fourth of July apparel, shower and dress myself and wait for daddy to get home so that we can run out to a last minute party. I won't have a cake in hand but I will come home to a clean kitchen floor and someday when I have time - take a bath in my freshly cleaned tub. . . yeah right, thats why i call myself Mommy dreamest. . . .(which isn't even a word)

Mommy Hostess

I remember the days when I used to love hosting parties, I stayed awake all night long dreaming of themes and small ways to exhibit that theme through every party element. Lets not forget the baked goods, there were the mini sugar cookie high heels I placed on mini chocolate cakes for my “No Sex in the City Party” the 3-D werewolf cupcakes for my Twilight New Moon Birthday Party and the homemade fortune cookies for my first Los Angeles Asian themed birthday party. I would make complex dishes, set up a full fledged bar with cocktails - Cosmos for the NSATC party, a blood bank of red mix-ins for the New Moon party and the Coffee bar for my Coffee and Chocolates party, ahhh those were the days. I used to run all around town from grocery store to craft store to 99cent store to find the perfect items to put the finishing touches on each party and I loved every second of it. Two years ago – happily engaged and not yet married I threw together a last minute golden party for my fiancée and me to watch the Oscars. Of course that was all before THE BABY came along. Last year I couldn’t even bring myself to watch the Oscars barring I was so heartbroken from being pregnant and was sure that that state of being officially put the nail in the coffin of the dream I had to ever be at the Oscars. Even for my baby shower before the baby came I dreamed and sketched some of the cutest cupcake for the event but was just too pregnant and exhausted to make them happen. This year for the Oscars I invited some people over, I had no ideas for themes or party pizzazz. But I kept trying to think of something clever in between popping my boob in my sons mouth, changing his diaper, his clothes, rocking him to sleep, making stupid faces and cooing at him but nothing came to mind. I was going to go to three stores to get various items but by the time I got him up, dressed fed, myself dressed and the house semi presentable for guests I barely had time to get to one store. I knew I could only do items that involved absolutely no cooking because when you have a baby you just step away long enough to either break your sauce, overcook your meat or over boil your sugar mixture for rice crispy treats. So I reduced my spread to store bought sangria with fresh fruit chopped and mixed in, canned hummus with pita bread (which I over heated in the oven to the point of chewiness because I tended to the babe), and some fresh fruit sprinkled on a tray. It was lackluster to say the least. The day before I had decided I was only going to have rice crispy treats cause I had been craving them for almost a year but as alluded to earlier while cooking the sugar mixture I let it boil too long and they became too hard to eat let alone to offer to guests. (I did offer them but warned people they may just lose a filling). All in all by the time people got there I was too exhausted to even do my usual meet, greet, fix and pour drinks, it took everything I had to keep my eyes open which of course wasn’t aided by the fact the Oscars were SUPER LONG AND BORING this year even with young hot hosts. I remember when I too was a young hot host, full of ideas and fervor to entertain now I am just a tired ass mom. This is not a self deprecating post nor is it a request for guests to offer me reassuring comments it is just a statement of the facts of who I was and who I am becoming. I think that is the hardest thing about Motherhood letting go of who you were and getting to know who you are becoming – It’s a process, a long one and I am only four sleep deprived months in.

Is he sleeping through the night?

I find now that I have a baby the question on everyone's mind is "Is he sleeping through the night" with a judgmental tone and how I answer "no" is then followed by sufficient judgment about my parenting skills and overall skill as a mother. Its annoying and unnecessary. However who I was expecting the question rightfully from but not expecting the subsequent judgment was my pediatrician.
Pediatrician: Is he sleeping thru the night?
Me: (calmly) No
Pediatrician: (agitated) What's his longest period?
Me:(frantically thinking) Uh 4.5 - 5 hours?
Pediatrician: (really agitated) Well that's no good at all is it? He should be sleeping at least 8 hours.
I said nothing. I left with my tail between my legs but then when I got home I was really peeved. What I have heard from my friends who have been in the trenches of motherhood is that - breastfed babies take longer and boy babies take longer and well I have a breastfed boy so I have just agreed to be in for the long haul. What my doctor should have said was "What is the nighttime like" or "How is the nighttime going" to which I would have responded "Well, he's down for twelve hours with two wakings". Which is pretty darn good. And now its down to one waking so I think I am doing really good Mr. Pediatrician. I vow to never ever ask a new mom "Is he sleeping through the night?". Cause no one wants that baby to be sleeping through the night more than the mother herself, so really what business is it of mine?

I get why moms are crazy

I spend all day with my son secretly at times I long to get away from him, to just have a break from him constantly needing me. The hubs and I go out on one date a month, these date nights are the longest times I am away from my son. As the sitter usually feeds him and we are gone in the night I can be away from him for 8 to 10 hours. When I get home I find myself pacing around begging for him to wake up, crazy with worry and desire to see him and to be with him. I worry about him, I ache deep inside, I feel crazy and then I get it – I get why moms are crazy, why they go insane when we are teenagers and start to be more independent and when we go off to college and when we get jobs and move aways. Now that I have a son I get that craziness that insane desire to be with someone all of the time, to constantly want to know what and how they are doing, its not out of control its out of love, that crazy love that a mother has for her child. That crazy love that when you finally get a second free from that crying, stinky, drooling mess of a baby all you want to do is be right back there with them sporting that lovely eau de puke. I get it. I see my mom differently now. She just wants to be with me all of the time even when she doesn’t want to be with me. I get it. I’m now one of those crazy people too.

Pardon my stroller, Mr. Porsche

I took Nehe out in Los Angeles today, we ventured to the west side, something I always do with dread because of the traffic. I met a friend for coffee, I parked my car and on the way in I overheard a man outside the store literally having a conversation about $50 million dollars, nice. I rolled my stroller in and a handsome man opened the door for me, double nice and the first time in LA that someone has opened the door for me with the stroller, Nehe is four months old but that fact is shockingly true. When we were done with coffee I left and noticed that a super new, shiny black Porsche was parked next to me. As I wielded the stroller through the tiny opening I was careful not to touch it for fear that my baby’s carriage would leave a big scratch along the side. As I was putting stuff in the trunk, taking my time I looked up to see a man standing behind my stroller giving me the stink eye. Apparently my stroller was blocking his car door and he couldn’t make the words to ask me to move it. I said, “Oh sorry” and quickly moved my stroller with a sweet grin on my face, still no words as he stormed past me and into his car as if to say how dare you and your stroller be in front of my Porsche. Jerk. I can play snob too. I’ll have you know that this is no $80 Graco I am pushing around, this is a top of the line BOB Revolution that set me and my husband back $400. I should have let BOB scrape that Porsche.