At 6:20 on Sunday morning, we welcomed a new member to our bus family. True to the predictions of the bus ladies (and everyone else), it’s a boy. His stats:
Name: Quincy Tonderai
Nickname: Busling
Birth date: 1/24/2010
Weight: 9 lbs, 5.5 ounces (And we thought his sister was big!)
Length: 21.25 inches
We rode to the hospital in a cab (door-to-door in five minutes) and took our baby Busling home on our family’s favorite route. (It’s a pretty long walk from Swedish to the 27 stop, but we had missed the 4 and were eager to get home to Chicklet.) Like his sister, he took his first bus ride in a car seat, since babies aren’t allowed to leave the hospital without one, but–also like his sister–he’ll soon be taking all his rides in a carrier.
Since the trip home, we’ve been bus free, resting and spending some QT with our sweet QT.
At 2 AM Saturday morning, Chicklet woke up with a fever of over 104. After calling our insurance hotline and talking with an on-call nurse and doctor, we decided to take her to the emergency room. Even if the bus had been running at that hour, walking and waiting were out of the question (for me, anyway–Nerd was down), and there were no Zipcars available in our neighborhood. So, we settled for option three–a cab–and were sitting in the Swedish ER within 15 minutes of the call.*
Fortunately, Chicklet was not seriously ill. She had case of strep throat, from which she has recovered quite quickly. And have I mentioned how grateful I am to have insurance and access to quality medical care? I digress.
The prospect of emergency-illness situations like this was one of the few issues that gave me pause when planning for car-free parenthood. Nerd and I both knew that we’d remain car-free when we had kids and that we’d do whatever was necessary to make it work,** but from the beginning, I’ve felt anxiety about how we would handle the inevitable medical emergencies that seem to arise with small children.
I realize that this is an irrational fear. After all, we’ve chosen to live in a dense(ish), urban neighborhood that gives us easy access to both regular and emergency care. Our home is a block from Chicklet’s pediatrician and within a couple of miles of four hospitals. We also have multiple travel options (Zipcars, cabs, or ambulances, depending on the circumstances) for situations when her pediatrician’s office is closed and a bus is not available or practical. Still, there’s something about not feeling in control and about having to figure out how to get somewhere in a moment of crisis, that doesn’t–or, at least, didn’t–sit well with me.
Now that we have a few Chicklet ER trips under our belt (one by bus, one by Zipcar, and this latest, by cab), I feel more at ease. In every case, we were sitting in the waiting room within 30 minutes of our decision to go, which is faster than most car-owning suburban parents–many of whom live long drives from hospitals–can make it. In fact, if all else failed, we could probably walk to a hospital faster than a large percentage of Americans could drive to one. Shoot, if my parent-protective-fear-adrenaline instinct was activated, I’d run.
*It was actually a good trial run for labor (assuming that ever happens), which will also probably involve a cab ride.
**So far, we haven’t changed much–in terms of our transportation and living situation, at least. We still live in the same–though much more crowded–home, still rent Zipcars about as frequently, and still ride the same routes. About the only thing that’s changed is that we walk in our neighborhood (mostly headed to parks) even more than we did before.
8 to and from the Nutcracker (16)…
+ 48 to and from the candlelight service at Good Shepherd (96)…
+ bus-free cooking and baking (while watching The Two Towers) with my riding partner for life (0)…
= 112, an absolutely perfect day
1) Another car-free parent, Jeremy Adam Smith in San Francisco, shares his reasons for riding (and walking) with his son (via: Carfree with Kids):
You can buy eco-products from here to the end of time; you can recycle and reuse everything you can; you can even buy a hybrid. But most scientists and engineers agree: The single best thing you can do for the Earth, the greatest positive change you can make, is to give up owning a private vehicle altogether.
Many people will see this as a terrible sacrifice — and in some places, it is almost impossible. But after fifteen years without a car — five of them as a parent — I don’t think we’ve sacrificed a thing. And in fact, our carfree family has gained a lot…
Jeremy goes on to list many of the same benefits that my family–and the (few) other car-free families we know–have experienced: quality time; contact with community; improved health; resourcefulness; and a real, on-the-ground knowledge of one’s city that simply cannot be duplicated from the isolated bubble of a car.
Can I get an “amen!”?
2) Some fun gifts for Chicklet and Bus-Baby-to-Be from my cousins-in-law, Erin and Eli, in NYC:
So far, my gratitude is overcoming my envy (I wanna go to the Transit Museum!), but the emotions are pretty much neck and neck.
Thanks, guys!
Still no swine flu shot for Chicklet. [Sigh.]
Pharmacy: 700 doses
Line outside pharmacy: 1,000+ people (probably closer to 2,000)
I’ve never seen a line so long–not even the time I waited for half a day to score New Year’s Eve Prince tickets. It was up to four blocks before the walk-in clinic even opened.
There’s supposedly another walk-in clinic tomorrow. It starts at 9:00. 5:48 (AM!!!) 75: Here we come!
My little Chicklet turned two today, which means I’ve officially logged two years as a bus parent. Here’s some of what I’ve learned:
Ride time matters
In my child-free, car-free days, I could justify bus trips that took longer than driving by using my rides effectively.* I spent my bus time reading (meeeemories!), napping, working, checking messages, and et cetera. Lots of times, I just stared out the window, but even that I could justify as my quiet/thinking time.
When I travel with Chicklet, longer trip times are harder to justify. In the first place, I can’t use the rides to do something productive. It’s true that the time I spend with my daughter on the bus is usually quality time** (more about this shortly), but it’s work keeping her entertained on a 35-minute 4 ride up the hill from downtown–and even more work keeping her entertained (and safe–given her decreased tolerance for sitting still) during long waits between transfers.
And then, there’s the issue of her schedule. Until very recently, Chicklet’s naps did not interfere with our outings. She could easily sleep in her carrier and would regularly nap on the go: in the middle of a shopping trip, at a bus stop, on a long walk. These days, I’m too big to carry her in a pack, so naps outside of the house are close to impossible. (She sometimes falls asleep–with a little help–on the bus, but this cannot be counted on.) This means that our outing opportunities are relegated to two to three hours in the morning (assuming that we get out of the house very early) and about two hours in the afternoon (assuming we’re willing to deal with peak-hour crowds on the way home); we don’t have a lot of time to waste on late or long bus rides.
The ride is entertainment enough (or, Who needs a minivan with a DVD player?)
I always bring a small number of books or toys on our outings, but I only use them on trips that last over 30 minutes (see above). There’s so much to keep Chicklet entertained on the bus! She helps to swipe my Orca card. We talk about what the windshield wipers do. We describe what we see in the pictures on the indoor ads. We watch the cars, boats, and trains*** as they pass. We point out her favorite landmarks. (Pratt Park! Space Needle! Mount Rainier!) Every time someone rings the bell, she looks up at the lighted “Stop Requested” sign, calls out all the letters she recognizes, then tells whomever will listen what’s going to happen next. (The driver will open the door, and “the people will get off.”)
Chicklet’s favorite bus pastime is talking to (and, unfortunately, about) the people who share our rides. She has something to say about nearly every person who crosses our path. So far, the statements have been benign (That’s a mommy and a baby. /He’s reading a book./ She has candy.), but I assume it’s only a matter of time before she inadvertently insults someone.
Of course, along with all the enriching education that takes place on the bus, there’s also that other kind. In her two years of life, thanks mostly to the 4, Chicklet has heard more curse words (and more unique combinations of curse words) than most seasoned sailors. Miraculously, despite the fact that she regularly repeats, verbatim, conversations she overhears in transit, she has only once attempted to repeat a naughty word. Fortunately, I was able to convince her that she had misheard the young gentleman, and that he had actually said, “spit,” but sooner or later (preferably sooner), I’ll have to develop a more sophisticated strategy for dealing with the less desirable side of her bus education.
“Stuff” is still an issue
Though I rarely pack more than a few books and snacks, water, and hand sanitizer for our regular outings, there are (not infrequent) occasions when I need to transport items in addition to Chicklet and her bag. Most often, this is recently purchased (or borrowed) children’s clothing, but the examples are nearly infinite. To put it succinctly: Toddler + bag + stroller + stuff +bus (+ umbrella?) = misery.
There’s more, of course, which I will get to in due time. I still very much enjoy busing with my kid, and I’m still committed to my choice to be car-free. But, bus parenting is not a cinch, and certainly, it’s far more of a challenge than the car-free single life. We shall see what lessons year three (and baby number two!) will provide.
***
*Once, I had to give a talk in Kent. I spent the notoriously slow 150 ride to my destination writing my talking points. So, no time lost.
**This is an audio link. The interview starts at 43:00.
***Have I mentioned that Chicklet is obsessed with trains? Every time she sees a Link vehicle, or even a picture of one, she hollers, “A light rail!” and then begs to ride.
Podcast: Play in new window | Download
No, I haven’t been hitting Three Girls too hard this summer–well, not any harder than usual, anyway. I decided, since I had so much fun (ahem) busing while pregnant in ’07, I’d give it another whirl.
Yes, folks, Bus Nerd and I are expecting another little one early next year–January, to be exact–and facing what will surely be the greatest test of our car-free life thus far: busing with two babies.
I’ve spent the past 20 months (well, on and off anyway–I know not everyone’s as interested in hearing about my kid as I am in talking about her) telling you how much I enjoy busing with Chicklet. And I really do. I love spending one-on-one time on our travels. I love having extra time to read and talk to her. I love experiencing the excitement of riding through her eyes. I love that I am teaching her many of my values–conservation, equality, community engagement, thrift, to name a few–without having to say a word.
But, you know all that stuff. You also know that I wouldn’t have started this post reiterating everything I love about my car-free, child-full life, unless I was about to tell you about something I don’t love.
There are, in fact, several things I don’t love about car-free parenting. As improbable is it seems (given that most of my life is spent not driving) the issue that causes me the greatest amount of inconvenience, stress, and anxiety is: car seat drama.
You see, although we don’t own a car, there are occasions (about once a month or every other month) when we need to use one. In the old days, this was a cinch: 1. Reserve car 2. Walk to car 3. Drive car 4. Return car.
These days? Not so much. The new routine: 1) Reserve car* 2. Schlep Chicklet, Chicklet’s car seat, and Chicklet’s stuff to car 3. Install car seat in car while ensuring that Chicklet doesn’t push any of the car’s buttons or make a beeline for the busy parking lot where the car is parked 4. Strap Chicklet into car seat 5. Drive car 6. Return car 7. Remove Chicklet and unstrap seat 8. Schlep Chicklet, seat, and stuff back home.
If Nerd is around for the car trip, the process is somewhat easier, since one of us can go get the car (sans Chicklet) and bring it back to our place to install the seat. Still, it wastes precious time that we’re paying for.
And I’m not finished.
On my father’s 70th birthday, the family met at a restaurant on Alki Beach to celebrate. After dinner, everyone wanted to head to my dad’s place–not far from the restaurant, but too far to walk–for dessert. Because the bus service in that part of town is abysmal, there’s no service from Alki to my dad’s place (at Seacrest) in the evening. Pre-child, this would not have been an issue. Nerd and I would have ridden to my dad’s with some family member or other, and, after dinner, walked up the hill to catch the 55 or hitched a ride downtown with my brother, who would have been heading that way anyway. But, since we had Chicklet with us, and since we didn’t happen to bring her 15-pound car seat along on our outing, we missed the after-party.
The next Saulter family gathering was for Father’s Day bowling at West Seattle Bowl. This time, we anticipated a post-bowling trip to Pegasus and so dragged Chicklet’s enormous seat along with us on the two-bus trip to the bowling alley. With two parents and two fairly empty Sunday-afternoon buses, we managed it. Certainly, though, it’s not a reasonable regular practice.
And then there was the time back in November of 2008, when we attended an election party at our friends’ place in Kirkland. On the way home (per usual, we had to leave earlier than everyone else to catch the last bus), we miscalculated the location of the bus stop and missed the route we were supposed to take back to Seattle. Pre-Chicklet, we would have called a cab. That night, we were forced to take a convoluted series of buses and spend a lot of time waiting outside in the dark. Did I mention that it was cold, and we had a baby with us?
I’ll spare you all of my other examples, since I think you get the picture.
Yes, I do know about the car seat/stroller combo (wish we’d done our homework before we bought the one we have), but that only really solves the Zipcar problem. What I need someone to invent (and pronto!) is a collapsible, portable car seat that a bus parent can carry in her bus chick bag–a sort of “car seat for emergencies.” Who’s got me?
***
* * If the only car within reasonable walking distance of our home is reserved, I skip the trip. Trying to time a rental around a bus schedule and then drag the seat and kid on the bus (and still walk at least a couple of blocks) is just more trouble than it’s worth.
Chicklet and I are playing with puzzles in the (air conditioned) library. We start with the farm animals, then move to reptiles and amphibians, letters and numbers, and et cetera.
When we get to the vehicle puzzle, Chicklet picks up the car piece, studies it for a second, and announces, to no one in particular, “A Zipcar!”
