How to Take a Stroller on an Escalator {A Tongue in Cheek Guide.}

I know I have many readers who don’t have children.� I can only assume my adventures as a less than perfect stay at home mom provide some sort of birth control, wherein I promptly shrivel ovaries quivering in anticipation after reading, say, Amanda Soule.� Well, allow me to be of service once again by dolling out little pointers here and there that other moms may neglect to dispense.

There is a proper way to get on and off an escalator with a stroller.� Actually, there are two proper ways to get on and off an escalator with a stroller, one better than the other.� Not only are there two ways, the technique also varies with the type of stroller in use.

But first, the rules.� There is really only one rule, and that is that you should not do this if the escalator is even a bit crowded.� As you will see, the process is fraught potential for disaster.

Technique No. 1 {For use with heavy and light strollers}

The Heavy Stroller

If you have a large, heavy stroller you can approach the escalator head on.� The choice to pop a wheelie as you get on is your choice, but definitely do so once you and the stroller are securely on the escalator.� As you approach the bottom of the escalator, keep the front wheels up.� Drop the front wheels onto the floor once the back wheels hit the escalator return (I have no idea if that’s what it’s called, but I’m talking about the part where the escalator disappears into that little tunnel thing) and start walking.� Sometimes the back wheels will get caught in the return (enough–that’s what I’ve decided to call that thing) and if they do, your stroller should be heavy enough that you can plow your way forward.� If not, lift the back wheels slightly and move forward on the front wheels.� Easy.

The Umbrella Stroller

An umbrella stroller is the cheap, hammock like device your parents stuffed you in as a child.� They are ugly, cost less than $20, and frequently used for travel.� A rookie mom would never touch an umbrella stroller because they are, again, cheap, ugly, and cheap.� Then, one day, rookie mom goes on vacation or Disneyland or someplace similar.� Loath to take her $400 behemoth, she buys an umbrella stroller to use, “just this one time.”� Uh-huh.� Whatever you say, Lindsey Lohan.� Because once you do the one-handed fold and toss in 2.3 cubic feet of space, you’re done.

Now, as handy as these strollers are, they are light and flimsy.� They don’t have the weight behind them to plow through a crowd, let alone an escalator return.� So, for that reason, you should get on the escalator backwards.� You get on the escalator first, umbrella stroller second.� You will naturally pop a wheelie in order to do this.� When you reach the bottom of the escalator, you disembark first and pull the stroller (with both hands) behind you, wheelie style.� Only when you and the stroller are both completely off the escalator do you put the front wheels on the ground.� Easy.

You don’t ever want to try going down an escalator with an umbrella stroller ahead of you, at least not with a 27 pound toddler in the hammock.� You’re just asking for trouble, which is why I muttered an expletive when I found myself doing exactly that a couple of weeks ago.

A complete and total rookie mistake made while I was trying to kill time before I could pick Mikey up from school.� I watched the return approach and appraised the situation.� Thirty pounds of Nicholas, a 3 year old umbrella stroller, and an escalator from the 70s.� I was screwed.

I did the best I could.� I popped a high wheelie and pushed.� Hard.

A reader once asked me how I could admit to so many embarrassing stories on my blog; how I could confess doing things she wouldn’t admit to anyone.� Well, I have three reasons.� Number one, I think most of the stories are pretty darn funny, and if you can’t laugh at yourself, you can’t laugh at anything.� Number two, I’m not perfect, and I wouldn’t want to give the impression that my life is a pile of love notes and freshly baked bread.� Number three, there is no way on God’s green earth that you can convince me that I am the only mom who has done something really stupid like take an umbrella stroller down an escalator.� So, knowing this, I know that you know exactly what happened when I popped a high wheelie and pushed the stroller hard.

That is, absolutely nothing.

It didn’t move.

Maybe the front wheels� moved.� In opposite directions.

So I activated the emergency landing sequence.� I kicked the ever living heck out of the undercarriage in an attempt to lift all four wheels off the floor.� And, like most emergency sequences, it worked to a certain degree.� One half of the stroller moved forward, meaning I then had to repeat the sequence for the half that remained behind.� Unfortunately, I was out of time and I had to hop a bit to avoid the stroller.� So I hopped.� Or, rather, I did the famous dog leg.� You know.� I’ve seen other moms do it.� The dog leg is when� you have to kind of hop/step over your stroller so that you are alongside the stroller.� It’s not unique to escalators.� I’ve seen it used in public restrooms, restaurants, and Gymboree stores nationwide during Gym-Buck time.

It was my last chance at getting off the escalator with any sort of dignity.

It was an epic fail.

Things were looking good until the toe of my right sneaker got caught on my enormous hobo bag hanging off the stroller.� Stupid hobo bag.� There I am, at the bottom of the escalator, hopping up and down on the landing pad with the toe of my shoe caught in the strap of my purse.� The purse was like quicksand, by the way.� The more I moved my foot, the more I sank into its leathery depths.� And!� Remember!� (Not you, rookie mom.� You, the one with the umbrella stroller.)� Think about where those stroller handles hit.� Exactly.� Now I am hopping on an escalator landing with my foot in a bag and my “particulars” practically straddling the right stroller handle.

This all happened in the course of 10 seconds, as disasters often do.� The only thing happening faster than my eminent demise was the rate at which my brain fired neurons.� I activated Emergency Sequence 3.5A, which as any seasoned mom knows, this means it’s all about to hit the fan.� I knew I had to propel the stroller off the landing or Nicholas would, once again, find himself nose to the ground and strapped in a stroller.� With the strength of 40 Dr. Kegels I hopped, pushed, and propelled myself off the landing.� Of course, it wasn’t pretty.� I had one foot in my bag, you see.� So, like a boat with a broken rudder, I moved forward in circles, donut-ing my way onto the store floor.� Starksy and Hutch would have been proud.

Now on the open floor, I had enough room to easily extricate my foot from the bag.� But, first, I looked up to see my score.� I was expecting to see employees holding numbered cards (all 10s, please!), perhaps a few managers laughing in their coffees.� But, no.� The store was deserted and no one witnessed my ingenuity.� Thank goodness.

Technique No. 2 {For use with heavy and light strollers}

Take the elevator.