This crafty young bus chick was cutting out sign letters (perfectly, despite the bumpy ride) while carrying on an involved conversation with her coworker* about the generosity of said coworker’s boyfriend.
It seems that he (the boyfriend, that is) has recently purchased a gorgeous pair of Coach flats for his lady love.
Stylish and bus friendly? Impressive choice!
*Note that I cannot vouch for the safety of this particular activity and therefore do not recommend it.
As you know, I ain’t one to hawk products [ahem], but this might just be the answer to my chick/chicklet bag dilemma.
The description even says it can be used as a “hip alternative diaper bag,” whatever that means. (You know you’re desperate to regain your cool when you’re willing to believe there’s such a thing.)
If only it came in other colors. I love buses and all, but school-bus yellow isn’t really my flavor.
Planning is essential.
The single biggest difference between being a bus parent and being a car parent is the amount of mental energy that’s required to make it through the day efficiently, productively, and free of stress. Some examples:
• Packing: Chicklet and I travel with one bag. In it we must carry everything we will need while we’re out: meals and snacks; books; diapers, diaper wraps, and wipes; an umbrella; a change of clothing, lotion, antibacterial gel, library passports… you get the picture. Unlike car moms, I can’t afford to bring anything I don’t need, but I also can’t afford to be two bus rides from home with a hungry, cold, or wet baby.
• Timing (part I): When possible, I arrange long bus trips during Chicklet’s naptime. She is a pro at napping on the go (in fact, she prefers bus naps to bed naps), and I far prefer peace (and perhaps even a few minutes of grown-up reading) to 20+ minutes of bored-Chicklet management.
• Timing (part II): It’s hard for any parent to be out the door on time, and a bus parent has to be out the door at an exact time. I always start getting Chicklet ready long before it’s time to go, and we still end up leaving the house in a rush, just in time to catch our bus.
• Errands: For many reasons, I do my best to minimize shopping. Unfortunately (even with groceries covered), some errands are unavoidable, and bus errands with a baby can be tough. Not only do they require meticulous planning (see above), but (hands-free carrier or not) it’s hard to carry anything of significance home with you. We do our Craigslist pickups (et cetera) during off-peak hours, or (very occasionally) we rent a Zipcar. But even “Zipping” is more of a challenge with a kid, since it requires me to schlep Chicklet and her ginormous car seat down the street to the car and then (correctly) install the seat before we go anywhere.
Comfort is key.
As a childless bus chick, I advocated shoes that were comfortable and cute. Today, I say: Cute, schmute! When I’m traveling with Chicklet, it’s all about comfort. (Hey, you try covering the pavement miles in heeled boots with a 20-pound weight strapped on.) And yes, I did purchase a pair of all-purpose walking shoes from one of those earthy stores I used to make fun of.
Crying is not an option.
If you take a cranky baby on a car trip, you’re the only one who has to endure the howling. Cranky babies on buses, on the other hand, share their howling with dozens of innocent bystanders. Because of this, I consider it my responsibility to keep Chicklet content and well-behaved for the duration of every ride. This sometimes requires effort (ah, how I miss those carefree days of naps and novels!) but is required for good bus citizenship.
On the plus side:
Car free is gear free. (or, Who needs a baby travel system?)
[I ain’t one to hawk products, but] There is a special place in heaven for the inventor of the Ergo Baby. I’ve already listed the many reasons I love this carrier, and I love it more every day I use it. It has been the single most important factor in my (and my child’s) comfort and general enjoyment of busing this year, and I’m fairly confident it will serve us well until she’s at least two. And speaking of…
Busing means bonding.
Attachment parents–listen up: Unlike car moms, who have to strap their kids into car seats, I get to ride face to face with my chicklet. We read, talk, cuddle, make new friends, and watch the world together.
Bus moms are buff moms.
A year* after waddling to the hospital to deliver, I’m back at my pre-pregnancy weight (after gaining a wee bit–OK, a lot–more than my doctor recommended), and I haven’t counted a single calorie or even considered visiting a gym. In fact, aside from a handful of trips to the local track, I haven’t made a special effort to exercise. Believe me, my life as a bus parent is exercise enough.
I’ve made plenty of adjustments this year, but then, what new parent doesn’t make adjustments? The good news is, Chicklet has not been deprived of any advantage or experience that is available to the children of car-owning parents, yet she’s been enriched and educated in many ways that car kids have not. I can honestly say that the benefits (to my family and to the planet) of my first year bus parenting far outweigh any challenges. Bring on the next 17!
* This actually happened around the 10-month mark, but who’s counting?
I do OK with cute and comfortable footwear (though not as well as my girl Miranda) until it’s time to really dress. I’m not big on “wear a pair, carry a pair,” so on occasions that call for high heels, I usually just choose the pair that goes best with the outfit and resign myself to a few hours of suffering.* Fortunately for me, those occasions only occur a few times a month. For those of you who must wear dressy shoes on a regular basis, some hopeful news:
Over the weekend, my friend Char (not coincidentally, a newly minted bus chick) hipped me to these (and other) height-adjustable heels:
I ain’t one to hawk products, and believe me, I’m not trying to sell you these. (I’m not really feeling the styles or the Salon Shoes prices.) I do appreciate the concept, though. Check the video.
* I have also been known to call a cab.
A 60-ish man is holding court in the front of the bus, talking to many of the other passengers, most of whom he seems to know. At Broadway, a handsome twentysomething with impeccable waves gets on. As Twentysomething passes, the older man stops mid-sentence, and in a tone bordering on reverent, says,
“Son, you could float a cruise ship on that head.”
I have many, many pairs of shoes. This is not because I buy a lot of shoes. (In fact, I can’t remember the last time I shopped for footwear.) It is because my mother, the most stylish woman I have ever known, bought a lot of shoes, and when she tired of them, she handed them down to me. Many of these shoes I have given away, but some are too beautiful to part with. I wear them a couple of times a year, on special occasions, but most of the time, they sit in my closet, passed up in favor of my old standbys: heeled boots. The boots are professional, presentable, comfortable, and weather resistant. I have a black pair and a brown pair, and they work well with almost anything I decide to wear: jeans, slacks, even a skirt. What more could a bus chick ask for?
Every once in a while, though, on a regular, walking-intensive day, I have a hankerin’ to wear something a little more fun. You dig?
Enter Miranda.
My fellow TAC member, Miranda L., is young, professional, fashion-conscious, and a total bus chick. Last night, on the elevator ride to our monthly meeting, I noticed her shoes: cute, red, heeled Mary Janes–the kind of shoes I regret wearing after about 15 minutes of pavement time. According to Miranda, who’s certainly done her share of pavement time, these Mary Janes are actually comfortable.
Fellow bus chicks, behold:
I ain’t one to hawk products, but for those who want to know: They’re Aerosoles.
All she needs now is a pair of rubber taps…
A Dear John letter to the 48:
Let me start this by telling you that despite all your flaws, you’re a pretty cool bus. … And I know, it must be hard for you, trudging from Loyal Heights to Rainier Beach all day long. I know! But 48, things just aren’t working out between us. …
and…
I was wondering what to get Bus Nerd for his birthday…
