Saturday evening we went to the Panegyri Greek festival, an event known to attract more than 35,000 people each year. Since it lasts only three days, you can guess that around 10,000 people were there at some point on Saturday.
As we maneuvered through crowds of people, I thought how glad I was that we brought the umbrella stroller. It's smaller and therefore easier to steer in between all those legs without ramming into somebody's heels. As I squeezed through a small gap, one man asked me if I could make it through. I said yes and he said, "Imagine what it looks like to her."
Can you even think about what that looks like? Just legs. Bare legs from the thigh on down because it's summer. She couldn't see faces, sky or any open space whatsoever. Just bare legs. How creepy. I think I would cry if that was all I could see. Autumn's calm exterior makes me think that she's either braver than I, or she's so used to that vantage point from stroller rides and from just being 3-feet tall.
The only time I've ever thought about what she could or could not see was at the zoos we've gone to where we took her out of her stroller so she could see over railings and hedges. But I never thought about the other times, like Saturday, where we've put her in a stroller for convenience (and safety).
When I broke my foot and rode wheelchairs or scooters as I shopped in stores, I remember how frustrating it was to not be able to see the higher shelves or to reach items on those shelves. It makes think how frustrating her little toddler life could be. She can't see, can't reach, can't fully communicate everything she wants. And to top it all off, for now when she goes to the bathroom she has to sit in it until an adult changes the diaper. Makes you glad you're not a toddler, doesn't it?