Kids

One of the more memorable evenings of my carefree twenties ended in the gutter outside a Soho nightclub. Little did I suspect that 15 years later, I would be back in that same gutter with my toddler. This time no gin was involved. I’d been pushing Lily’s buggy across the road, when a pothole grabbed the front wheels, flipping us upside-down on to the Tarmac. Lily was fine, protected by her sturdy pram. I was badly bruised – but no one wanted to hear the sob story of a woman who had, apparently, just thrown her child into the street. Feature continues

As I lay in the road, I thought to myself: I’ve had enough of pushing this buggy around a city that is so unsuited to the activity. On the short walk from Leicester Square tube, I’d negotiated roadworks with no barriers, smokers flicking ash in Lily’s face and crowds outside bars forcing me into traffic. Not to mention the tube journey itself… I’m sick of standing by a flight of stairs, trying to catch the eye of anybody willing to help carry my child to the platform. Every play-worker Lily comes into contact with is police-checked up to the eyeballs, yet here I stand, waiting to entrust the safety of my child to a complete stranger whose only qualification is a valid Oyster card.

Most of those that help are very nice. But I have had at least three drunks, and one man who took it upon himself to grab the whole pram and walk off in the opposite direction – much to the noisy displeasure of my toddler. Some parents have given up on the kindness of strangers: ‘I often end up carrying the buggy downstairs on my own,’ says Polly Buskin, ‘– and get tutted at when I’m going slowly.’

Escalators aren’t as helpful as they seem – because they tip the pram so severely. Scared that Lily would slide out, I used to counter-balance
her by sitting on the escalator. One day I mistimed my re-stand and got sucked under – I still have a scar on my right buttock.

It’s surprising people with more than one child ever get out of the house. Often they don’t. ‘Some mornings I walk the twins to the bus stop for Peckham,’ says Bex Dallibar. ‘By the fourth bus that has been full or just refused to let the double-buggy on, I give up and go back home.’

Ben Norris has triplets: ‘We’ve never even attempted the bus or tube. Our lifeline is Sydenham rail – it has streetlevel access. Or rather it did… recently barriers have been fitted so we’ll have to climb two sets of stairs. That’s going to be impossible without removing three toddlers, carrying the buggy and hoping the triplets safely walk up the stairs.’

Of course, the theory on the bus is that you fold your pram, but most parents find that laughably unrealistic. ‘So, I’m meant to hold on to four-month-old Nils and two-and-a-half-year-old Tammy,’ says Edie Allan, ‘plus baby bag and shopping, while trying to collapse a double-buggy – heaven forbid I have the raincover on or one of them is sleeping.’

Many parents just pray for an accommodating bus driver. Waiting for the door to open often feels like the drawing back of the screen on ‘Blind
Date’ – anxiously hoping we get an angel not a humbug. Even after being let on, many parents have had the doors shut on the pram when they were deemed to be getting off too slowly. My husband suggested that now Lily is two we should abandon the buggy and ask her to walk. I literally laughed in his face, having just walked to the local shop and back – me laden with shopping, her finding it hilarious to roll on the pavement and poke doggy-doo.

Edie Allan has a better suggestion: ‘Boris wants a new bus, so let’s have “Buses for Babies”, with endless space for prams, and wheelchairs.’ What a great idea – a bus where the whole bottom deck is flip-up seats, to accommodate buggies (and wheelchairs), with priority for those who can’t walk upstairs. Just think of it: buggies, double-buggies and triplets – all travelling through London together. We could live the dream.

Could you design Meryl’s ‘Buses for Babies’? Email your sketches to kids@timeout.com.