Introducing Mama Kangaroo

I present to you Mama Kangaroo. That, in fact, is me.  I have boarded the plane carrying the little angel in a baby carrier and found myself living the rest of my life carrying her like a kangaroo. So I thought a name change on my birthday could be timely actually.  I had her buckled up in her carrier while I folded her stroller at the door, we boarded with a backpack, a blanket, and my jacket.  Managed to change our seat, carry and then store the stuff we brought on board in the overhead bin, rock her around the cabin while the plane finally decided to move away from the gate, and harness her during take off.  Mama Kangaroo even used the bathroom while baby Kangaroo was in her pouch, looking around the airplane washroom as if she had boarded a shuttle ship.

Frankly at times I felt more like a Mama Octopus.  For example when during take off Baby Kangaroo started acting like she was hungry, again.  It was not feasible to nurse her in that situation of Kangaroo-ness. So instead, I brought down my backpack from the bin with two hands, took out the ziplock of formula supplies I had packed for the occasion with one hand, opened the zipper with another hand, took out the baby bottle with another hand, unscrew the nipple with another hand, shook and then opened the seal of the baby formula with two other hands, poured the formula in the bottle with another hand and screwed the top with yet another hand all the while I was trying to keep the baby Kangaroo calm ... less noisy. It was in the middle of this mission that I felt like an octopus.  But then I thought Mama Kangaroo was more prestigious.

Mama Kangaroo! That's me.