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On Oct. 31st, 2007, far too many days past my due date, I took the bus (#’s 27 + 60) to Swedish Hospital to have a baby. We had planned a cab to the hospital, which is only a couple of miles from our house, and had also enlisted family and friends as backup transporters. As it turned out, I stayed pregnant so long I had to be induced, so (sorry to disappoint, folks) the trip was hardly an emergency.
At 7:33 a.m. on Nov. 1, Bus Chicklet was born. We named her Rosa Caroline, after Rosa Parks (a.k.a. Original Bus Chick) and my mother.
On her second day of life, we took our little chicklet home on the #4. As one of Seattle’s slowest, loudest, and funkiest (as in foulsmelling) routes, it’s not the ideal introduction to the bus system (we realize that we risked putting our child off buses forever), but at least we can be confident she’ll be ready for anything on future rides. Fortunately, she’s had lots of opportunity for comparison. Since her inaugural ride, Rosa’s been on her share of buses: the #3, #8, #14, #17, #27 (her mom’s favorite), #48, #55, #174 (a route with which the #4 compares favorably), and #194. She seems to like buses and has thus far (knock wood) behaved quite well during our travels.
Though Chicklet didn’t take long to get good at busing with Mom, Mom’s still getting the hang of busing with baby. So far, my two greatest challenges have been:
- Timing. To be a successful bus rider, you have to plan your outings around bus schedules. Unfortunately, babies — with their frequent feeding requirements and penchant for dirtying freshly changed diapers — aren’t always ready to go when the bus is. I’ve learned to start preparing at least an hour before I think I need to, which only slightly increases our chances of being on time.
- Managing stuff. As a bus chick, I deal with the competing requirements of being prepared for any eventuality and traveling light. Pre-Chicklet, I had reached a good balance, keeping my bus chick bag light but stocked with everything a childless young(ish) woman might need on her adventures. These days, my bus chick bag must double as a diaper bag, and I’ve got an additional 10-pound piece of precious cargo to consider. A baby carrier keeps my hands free and the Chicklet happy (it also prevents the hassle of taking a stroller on the bus), but I’m still figuring out how much (and what) to carry with me.
We’ll work out the kinks and keep you posted. In the meantime, I’m looking forward to many adventures with my new riding partner.
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