I have been hinting in different places (Facebook, this blog, in different emails to folk) for the past week and a half about my driving a manual transmission instead of my regular trusty automatic vehicle. So, here is a story about that and then a different story with pics. It's a long post, so go get a drink or a snack, and then get comfy before you keep reading.
My 1994 Nissan Altima, while it is still alive and doing very well, has not had air conditioning for at least 8 years. Something about a valve that needs to be replaced in the middle of a long system of coils to keep the freon from leaking out...very labor intensive and would need lots of money. Well, I have been okay with it for the past 8 summers, but I knew that it would not be okay to put an infant into a car that was cooking at 90+ degrees. Tim's 1997 Jetta has luxarious air conditioning, but it's stick shift. He tried to teach me a few of times when we were first married, but I would eventually quit. Something about using both feet and both hands while driving made me feel like an uncoordinated and lethal octopus. But now, with a baby ... well, it's true that a mother makes sacrifices for her baby. We agreed that I would learn to drive his car for the summer so Evie could have air conditioning when she is traveling with me during the day (to work, meetings, etc.). So, Tim took me out to a parking lot on a Saturday where we spent 3 hours practicing. I wasn't confident, but at least I had the basics.
Day 1: Then two Sundays ago, he handed me the keys to his car and announced that he was taking the baby to his church on the train. I was to drive his car to my church and then we would meet up afterward to go to the Cookman picnic. All I can say is that I made it to church alive. I was terrified, I was honked and yelled at all the way to church, people passed me on the left on a two-lane street, but at least I made it.
Day 2: I had to drive to work on Monday with the baby in the car. Mind you, this is ONLY Day 2. It was also forecasted to be 99 degrees or higher, which reminded me of why I was driving Tim's car in the first place. So, when we left the house around 9 a.m., it was already 80 degrees and climbing. I made it 8 minutes away from the house when the car died after I crossed an intersection. Yes, TOTALLY DIED. I was panicked--day 2 of driving the car and I kill it? The engine kept cutting off after I turned it on (and I had the clutch down so I wasn't inadvertently killing the engine). I leaned out the window and asked a pedestrian to help push the car and when I looked up, there were three guys out of nowhere pushing the car. Then another car pushed me the rest of the way to a gas station. Evie and I stood in the air-conditioned gas station for an hour and a half while I called back and forth between Tim, Roadside Service Assistance, my work to make arrangements for taking the day off, and answering machines of friends to get a ride home. I finally got a hold of some seminary friends who lived down the street from the gas station.
Christian and Sheila also met and married while at seminary, and now have a cute boy, Emmanuel (Manny for short) who is 15 months old. After picking us up, they invited us over for a pool party later that afternoon--Of Course We Would Love To! A pool party is the perfect way to shrug off a failed attempt to be an independent driver of a manual transmission for the sake of her daughter's well-being!
So, we hung out in Manny's gigantic baby pool with our feet in 60 degree water. It felt sooooo goooood, made you forget that it was about 100 degrees. Isn't Manny cute? I kinda cut off Sheila in the picture, who is on the right. This was the only picture I could get of the two bebes looking at me.
For her summer swimwear, Evie is sporting a flowery pink string bikini top with a white swim diaper so she can make the statement that "I'm confident and cute when I am wet!"
Evie loved the cool water but was absolutely clear: Do Not Try To Sit Her Down In The Cold Water. Her little bottom is only regulated for water at 85 degrees or warmer. So I held her so she could stand in the water. She stood for so long, that her knees would start to bend, and her little tush would start to dip into the water. The minute she realized what was going on, she would stiffen her legs again. So, I gave her a break and let her sit on me. I never made it into the water past my feet so I left my tank top on.
Tim came over after work and a hot drive from New Jersey in my non-air conditioned car. He and Evie cooled off and had some belly fun in the pool.
Little baby in a big pool.
A few days later, the Camera visited Evie during bathtime. Though she loves her bath, she starts to get a little antsy about midway through the bath. We discovered that if we flip her over she is distracted enough by the new scenery and bathtime remains happy and fussy-free. We also get a great view of her cute little baby tushy!
Soapy bottom!
"Daddy, I love bathtime!" Bathtime is mostly Daddy and Baby time. Tim gets home from work in time to play with her a little, give her a bath and then put her to bed.
Day 3: The car was fixed on day 2 at our garage. Something about hoses giving out. It wasn't my fault. Evie and I made it to work and back. Only minor honking at me.
Days 5 and 6: Evie and I had to attend meetings outside the city, requiring us to travel on highway systems. No honking, but probably got a few weird looks.
Day 9: Reversed for the first time in the Staples parking lot.
Day 12: Victory is mine!
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