Status Symbols

As a teenage girl, I thought that owning a pair of jeans with a triangle and a question mark sewn on the back pocket was the must-have status symbol. When I was a young woman in my twenties, I decided that owning a pair of red bottom heels meant that one had arrived. It wasn’t until recently that I realized that strollers—much like cars—are the ultimate status symbols.

It all started with a Graco DuoGlider. Its lines were long and sleek, much like those of a stretched limo. And I was treated much like a celebrity whenever I took it out for a spin. People would go out of their way to help me, running from behind to open doors for me. Very cool! The masses also flocked to it, much like the paparazzi, hoping to catch a glimpse of the passengers inside. One brazen gawker even went so far as to tear back the retractable sun-shades of the attached infant carriers and touch the stars of the show who were sleeping at the time. Not so cool!

As the twins got older, I decided it was time for a second vehicle; this one a jogging stroller. With all-terrain wheels and a heavy duty-chassis, my Bebe Love stroller resembled a Hummer and elevated me to rock star status. There were even more stares and the comments we received were more in awe of what we were doing. People were quick to get off to the side of the parkway to make room for the ruggedly sophisticated SUV. I was growing a little tired of the fame, however, and was eagerly anticipating the day when I could ditch the double stroller and return to a life of normalcy.

And then, baby makes three. Weighing in at a mere 33 pounds my new Valco Tri Mode Twin EX Double Stroller complete with an optional third seat is sleek, sporty and loaded with features. Not to mention kids! On one holiday shopping trip I received eleven—yes, ELEVEN!—comments on the stroller in less than an hour. My personal favorite was the guy who exclaimed, “That is the Bat Mobile of Strollers!” And just like that I transcended rock star status and reached that only attained by super heroes. Oddly enough, people stopped offering to open doors for me when I was driving the Bat Mobile. Probably because they knew I had spent four years honing my Super M.O.M. (Mother of Multiples) Powers and could handle anything that was placed in front of me, including dirty diapers from my dynamic duo and the double doors at the mall.

After spending the equivalent of a house payment on the Bat Mobile, I needed yet another stroller that was both compact and economical. Enter the umbrella stroller. I consider it the Toyota of strollers; it’s nothing fancy but gets great mileage and lasts for decades. Every now and then I load my singleton into that, let the twins walk alongside and get a glimpse of the anonymity I once enjoyed when going out. Until, that is, the twins have joint meltdowns in aisle 7 because I refuse to purchase whatever over-priced, trendy toy they happen to consider a status symbol at the moment. (Sigh.)