Mommy Vice

I've got a Mommy Vice.

I don't much care about what brand of clothing the little one sports (I gravitate to the clearance rack of our local Carter's outlet), what kind of shoe he'll wear (look for a post on SIL's shoe meltdown sometime soon), the brand of his crib (he's quite happy and comfortable in this little number), toys (unless they try to maim him, also a post for another day), my diaper bag, or the like.

But, Heavens to Moses [is that the right phrase?], I love my stroller. From its hi-tech rubber-coated chrome-finish wheels to its cushioned, telescoping handle and all its parts in between, I can't use it enough.

I don't know exactly when I morphed from regular person into stroller-psycho, but the crazy's taken over. Even now, post-stroller purchase and utterly content with our one and only baby-mobile, I still check out stroller message boards to hear about the latest and greatest innovations in child carts. And, I confess, I cannot help but glance at nearly every single stroller I pass, though, at this point, I've checked out so many strollers that one has to be either (a.) incredibly rare or (b.) really, truly awful to warrant a second look.

Also? I get a little thrill when other moms check out Tom's ride. Not because I'm vain about it [OK, not only because I'm a little vain], but because every now and then, in the briefest moment at a Barnes and Noble/Target/TJ Maxx/whathaveyou, it happens. Just by the look in her eye, I'll know it. I've found a fellow stroller-phile. Then the baby will punt a toy across the room and we'll both move on with our day.

So, what's your Mommy Vice?

And for the record, I push the UppaBaby Vista, whose line is so awesome that it's not long until it takes over the world. Or, you know, the [reserving my commentary] Bugaboo.