Despatches from a mother who started late (and is running to catch up)

Don't let the baby drive the bus

When I posted about my parking nightmare a couple of weeks ago some bright spark said in the comments thread I had no 'need' to drive, since I am lucky enough to live in a city centre. I decided to put this to the test by leaving the car at home and taking Beanie by bus to a Tiara Party at the Children's Bookshop here in Edinburgh. I am five months pregnant at the time of this experiment.

The 23 bus pulled up a few minutes after we got to the bus stop. Unfortunately for us, it was one of the many old-fashioned buses (unlike the one pictured) still in use, with steep steps at the entrance, bisected by a large handrail. Not very buggy-friendly.

I took Beanie out of the buggy, a big three-wheeler all-terrain (while holding Beanie's tiny hand firmly in case she tried to run into the road), folded it, then looked around for help with getting the buggy onto the bus. Only the driver looked like a possible. Everyone else looked like they'd give themselves a hernia trying a stunt like that.

The driver pulled on the handbrake, got out of his cabin, grabbed hold of the pram and lifted it high enough to clear the handrail, grappled with it a few moments, twisting and turning it above his head, then dumped it down in the passageway of the bus. I thought I heard a 'tsking' sound from some quarters at the delay. I clambered up the steps behind the driver, holding Beanie, (nearly two) thinking of my first pregnancy when I followed all the rules about not lifting heavy objects.

Edinburgh buses have strict rules about not leaving buggies obstructing passageways, so I knew I needed to get the buggy into an official storage space. I wouldn't be able to do this while holding Beanie. I shouldn't really have been doing it at all, being pregnant, but didn't feel I had much choice (getting off the bus wasn't much of an option by then). So I gave Beanie to the driver to hold. He looked a bit put out. "It's 20 years since I've looked after a wee one," he said. "I'm sure it'll all come back to you," I said sweetly. Then I turned to the buggy. It looked very big there on the floor. "Please don't move off yet," I called to the driver, who was sitting in his cabin with Beanie, as I was frightened of falling over if he moved away suddenly while I wasn't holding a handrail. Beanie looked delighted, like she might have a chance to drive the bus. She was pushing at buttons and levers with great enthusiasm.

I accosted a young schoolboy and asked him to help me with the buggy. Motherhood has made me so bosssy. He did as requested. Then I turned back to retrieve Beanie. To my horror, the bus driver's arms were empty. A woman passenger said: "Don't worry, dear, she's right here." I picked up Beanie from her, gave Beanie a kiss, and we sat down side by side in two seats that an old lady vacated for us, tottering down the passageway so we could sit down more easily.

The Tiara Party was worth every moment of hassle. Author Vivian French entertained a crowd of little girls with stories of the school for princesses. Even though Beanie was easily the youngest there, Vivian French and bookshop owner Vanessa Robertson (you can read her blog here) made a big fuss of her and welcomed us both. The girls made their own tiaras with a glorious array of stickers, colouring pens and glitter and invented princess stories with help from Vivian. It was a great success. Other author events coming up at the bookshop include children's author Cathy Cassidy, (tomorrow, 4 March at 5pm, some tickets still available). Beanie and I plan to be regulars at as many of them as possible. That said, transport-wise we chickened out and took a taxi home. Some battles are just not worth fighting.

Posted 03 March 2008 11:55

Buses

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