Mortal Fear: A Bus?

It’s one of the many phrases we use that we don’t usually mean. “I have a mortal fear of caffeine!” someone exclaims. And since you are exceptionally unlikely to die from ingesting caffeine, this is a highly exaggerated statement.

On the other hand, if you hear someone state, “I have a mortal fear of snakes,” that could be taken as truth. If the someone is speaking of a rattlesnake. Which can kill. But a garter snake…well, while I would take off at a run in the complete opposite direction of said garter snake, a meeting with it would probably not result in anything closely resembling the lack or mortality.

Last week I was considering some travel options and stopped short of declaring I have a mortal fear of the Pittsburgh Bus System. The fact that it entails a Pittsburgh government entity aside (and therefore highly susceptible), the idea that I really am scared of the bus system made me stop short. I spent the entire four and half years of living in Pittsburgh avoiding a system that is used by most of the population for the simple fact that it took me the entire four and a half years of living in Pittsburgh to know where half the names blinking on the buses were even loosely located. But it’s not like figuring out a strange city is scary to me. The subway systems of New York, Boston or D.C have never once terrified me and in at least two of those cities, I knew nothing about my destination except markings on a map. So, I had to ask myself, why do I have a mortal fear of a bus when I view a subway system as a navigational challenge to be overcome?

I quickly dismissed the idea that, to use another turn of phrase, “I want you to know where my life insurance policy is held in case I get hit by a bus.” If I was to weigh it all in balance, I fear getting hit by an SUV more than a bus and I never even consider that when looking both ways to cross a street. And, again, I would fear an accident in my own vehicle much more than one on a bus. So, why do I really dislike the idea of taking a bus, not only in Pittsburgh but just about anywhere? It seems exceptionally silly.

And, truth be told, I don’t really have an answer to the question I asked myself. Some psychologist might be able to dig up something that happened to me way before any memories of my childhood actually take form. Because, if I’m honest, my deep seated fear of a bus starts way back when I was five…and I have a very clear memory of it. And, in actuality, it was not the bus itself I feared. It was the destination…or, rather, the journey…and the idea that I would get off at the wrong place.

In my memory, my first bus ride was to school. On the first day of Kindergarten, some warm August day in 1985 as I stood at the bottom of the driveway in Lewisburg, TN with my mom (and probably sister Katey), rainbow backpack slung over my back and favorite Strawberry Shortcake dress comforting my first-day-of-school nerves. Although I can’t say I was very nervous about school as a whole, or my new teacher, or making new friends. My “mortal fear” that morning was that I would get on that bus, it would stop at another school that looked very much like Marshall County Elementary and I would get off there by accident, lost is a sea of kids much bigger than myself. To say I was terrified would probably be close to accurate. After all, I can still remember that fear 34 years later!

Yes, yes, yes. It was a silly idea. The bus driver would never have let a little Kindergartener get off the bus with a bunch of high schoolers. But I couldn’t even read yet, let alone work through a problem logically. Interestingly enough, getting off at the wrong school didn’t ended up being a relevant fear. What really happened that morning was that Mr. Black forgot he had a new kid on his route and didn’t even stop to pick me up! I have a feeling my mom stood there wondering what in the world she was going to have to do to not only get me to school that day but also ensure the bus dropped me off later or picked me up the next day. But another driver stopped to get me. This driver had already been to Marshall County that morning, but she drove her last stop to Connelly (the middle school) and then drove little me all the way to my school and let me off at the door of the place I recognized where I quickly walked to my classroom and started my school career. (And if you think this is luxury service, well, when you’re Betty Ann Ogilvie’s granddaughter….nothing in Lewisburg is considered too luxurious!)

After that auspicious start, I can’t remember ever fearing a bus ride again. And yet there remains some inset fear of getting on a bus and getting off at the wrong place – a thing 95% more likely to happen in Pittsburgh than anywhere else on earth I know of. And, so, I am happy to report that someone is picking me up. Yea! No bus! Yea! No getting lost on this trip!

The Tooth Fairy

I honestly can’t recall when I discovered the wonderfully mythical Tooth Fairy. It was certainly before I loss my first tooth in Kindergarten, for which I received a quarter. At that point of time, I truly believed the Tooth Fairy existed. In my mind, she resembled something akin to Tinker Bell only with long, curly hair and a wand with a star, and a twirly, tutu like skirt and she twinkled gloriously. My ardent belief was cemented after I spent the night at my friend Aleesha’s house and she told me that she had once seen the Tooth Fairy! And, of course, Aleesha was as honest as any imaginative 6-year-old could possibly be! Most certainly she had seen the Tooth Fairy.

Naturally, my steadfast believe gave way to reality. And yet the money remains real, so belief becomes rather overrated. In fact, I was visited by the Tooth Fairy as late as the age of 20 when I had one of my wisdom teeth very painfully removed (over a three-hour period). I can’t say the dollar was worth all I had been through, but the drugs given to me afterwards were brilliant. I never felt an ounce of pain. 

Emry was introduced to the idea of loosing teeth probably about a year ago as we were reading Fancy Nancy stories and one is about a tooth Nancy looses. In the book, because Nancy looses her tooth at school, she gets a plastic tooth necklace to put the tooth in. Emry informed me when she looses her teeth, she needs a tooth necklace. As yet, we had no idea about a Tooth Fairy.

Since then, she has mentioned off and on that when she gets bigger she will loose her teeth and new ones will grow in. A month ago her cousin, Jay, had the honor of loosing not only his first tooth on his 6^thbirthday, but his first TWO teeth. Of course, one slipped out unnoticed and was lost at the bottom of a ball pit, but the Tooth Fairy is gracious enough to pay even for those (although she no doubt must make extra effort to retrieve them). This has brought the subject of loosing teeth up quite often, so first I checked out a book about a Bear who looses his first tooth. This book introduced to her to concept of a Tooth Fairy, but as the little fairy left Bear a plate full of blueberries instead of money, well…the idea of money had yet to be established. She then saw a poster and little flyer at the library for a special story time celebrating National Tooth Fairy Day. Since she was so enamored with the idea, I took her to the library last night to enjoy stories, games and a craft about the Tooth Fairy.

Actually, I think I found the story time more enlightening than she did. It would appear that America and Canada have the main monopoly on the Tooth Fairy. Other countries have a little mouse named El Ratón Pérez. Others throw bottom teeth up on a roof and top teeth down on the ground or at the foot of their bed. Some countries have even stranger traditions than those. I think it’s rather interesting that loosing one’s baby teeth brings about folk traditions. 

Oddly enough, I still don’t think Emry understands that the Tooth Fairy brings money in exchange for baby teeth. She made a little bag from cardstock with cutout teeth on it at story time, which she proudly brought home and declared she would put her teeth in when they started to fall out. She also told Ethan he could use the bag when she was finished loosing her teeth and he started to loose his. She also informed me that when she does loose her teeth, the Tooth Fairy will leave her a plate of blueberries.

And I’m left trying to figure out how I’m supposed to put a plate of blueberries under her pillow…

Part Pig-Pen, Part Linus

My little man is a mess. Some days I feel like I spend half my life following him around, a broom in one hand and a mop in the other. A washcloth attached to my belt and a sponge in my back pocket. A tissue box tucked up under an arm and a small trash bin under the other. Something like a one-man-band. Only I’m a one-woman-cleaning-service.

Ethan doesn’t realize he’s a mess, of course. He goes through life with little recognition of what is messy versus what is clean. How he manages to drop every single crumb on the floor I’ll never know. Or drop his sippy cup yet again. Or simply leave toys trailing behind wherever he’s been. And while he’s usually congenial enough to clean up when I tell him to, sometimes I have to wonder why I bother. After all, nearly as soon as the blocks are picked up, the train set is scattered every which way. I don’t know how people survive being fulltime maids. There are many times I feel driven towards insanity.

I suppose, in all honesty, he may not be quite the mess I think he is. After all, he’s following in the footsteps of Emry who is simply not a mess. She was the rare child who never needed a drop cloth while she ate. I can count on one hand the number of times she has spilled a snack. If she gets a toy out, she usually picks it up without my even telling her. It’s a rare day if she has toys scattered through the house. Shoes come off at the door, clothes are put in her drawers. With a firstborn like that, almost any second born is bound to be considered a walking disaster.

But while he often seems like Pig Pen, at other times he is more of a Linus. At least, when it comes to his blanket. If he’s hurt, the blanket is his comfort. If he’s out of sorts, the blanket must be found. If he’s watching a movie or reading a story, the blanket must be tucked around him. So, as you can imagine, washing said blanket is always a challenge. Today I had no option. He woke up with a diaper that had somehow exploded. Everything got stripped off and tossed immediately into the wash. As we were heading out the door later thismorning, I took the blanket from the washer as soon as it was complete and tossed it the dryer with only a few items. It needed to be dried before naptime and I wouldn’t have time to run the dryer when we got back. He saw me throw his blanket in the dryer and pulled it right out. I told him it needed to be dried, put it back in and told him he would have to wait. He stood right in front of the dryer as I started it, looking through the door quite forlornly:

This lasted all of about 20 seconds before he looked up at me and asked, “Is it dry, Mama?”

I nudged him along to some other distraction, but as we passed the dryer on our way out the door about 20 minutes later, he stopped and asked again. Thankfully, it was! And so, the blanket went with us.

Today, this cute little girl is 39!

When did that happen?

Today...the Past

This week I turn 39. It’s a bit surreal. Just yesterday I was getting in the car with my mom, my kids and nephew loaded up in the car seats behind us. Getting a glimpse of myself in the side mirror, I wondered when I had become the mom with the greying hair while my mom had become Grandma. Have a really lived half a lifetime or more already? Despite the aging woman in the mirror, it doesn’t seem like 39 years have passed.

In her closet, Emry has a little blue jumper that I wore 35 years ago! She loves wearing it, twirling around as she does whenever she wears a dress. The other day I wondered if I happened to have a picture of myself in that dress so very long ago. Sure enough, I found one:

Me – 1984

And here is Emry:

Emry – 2019

You know, there are some similarities…!