My Dad's Bruce Lee and I'm Sitting on a JCB

Ok, I ain't no Bruce Lee and I don't drive a JCB. But a bit of both is needed when you go out and about with a pram. Where once you were free to roam the high ground and the underground with just a pass and some time, now you are laden with a four wheeled tea trolley and a backpack full of nappies, oh and a .And people don't necessarily move out of the way for you. No, you are expected to weave, bob and dart your way through a busy high street and negotiate steps and stairs by clunking your tea trolley one step at a time. You apologise for ramming into the heels of the person in front and you curse as you wait ages for the lift only for it to be full and the escalator is not an option.Rushing around with a pram is the nearest I will get to experience what it is like for wheelchair users to travel around. The connection between the two is even more profound when you realise that a lot of stores and public areas do not have changing rooms, and many mothers are left to sit on the floor of the wheelchair access toilets.Of course I realise that despite these hurdles, we are very fortunate in many ways. We have a car (though somewhat damaged since Cat took to the wheels and scraped a salt grit box) and as a couple, we can pretty much get anything we want organised and sorted, it just takes a little longer. Compare that to the many single mothers in our part of London who are very young, poor and often left to struggle alone.