My Kingdom, My Bus

A driver in her tiny fiefdom. 

I was subbing on a bus route yesterday (there's no preschool on Wednesdays), and in the late morning I was taking high schoolers from the technical school back to their high school. I welcome all the kids as they climb on (I have to count them, after all), but I don't try to make conversation with them. High schoolers are very self-absorbed. They don't usually make eye contact or acknowledge that I'm right in front of them. I am merely a fixture. Their ears are most often stuffed with earbuds.

On the drive, one of the girls in the front seat asked me if it's hard to drive a bus. I responded that it is very different than driving a car, but once you get used to making turns and compensating for 40 feet of bus behind you, you get used to it. I said it only took a few weeks for me to get trained. Then I waved my hand at the buttons panel and said, "You even learn what all of these are for!"

A moment after I stopped talking, I heard her seat mate say quietly, "You didn't ask for her life story!"

Roll eyes.

This is why I drive preschoolers. Preschoolers are happy to give me a high-five or knuckles when they get on the bus, and they love it when you're excited to see them. Give them a little kindness and attention and they're your best friend. They have not yet learned sarcasm.

On the first run of the day today--just before the sun rose--I was picking up junior high kids from a nearby town where the streets are all kittywampus. It's a very confusing area to drive in.

It was dark, and I couldn't tell where my first stop was as I crept along, trying to see house numbers on unlit porches. Turns out I missed the first stop, because the dad of the kids at that stop stomped up to the bus door a few stops further down, after chasing me in his car, and was quite upset with me for not seeing him flashing his headlights at me to stop. I sincerely apologized and told him I was completely unfamiliar with the route, and he calmed down when he recognized that I wasn't the normal driver. What I didn't say is that I have a 50-foot blind spot directly behind my school bus, so no matter how much you flash your lights, I'm not going to see you; and if I do, I might just assume you're a serial killer and speed up to keep the kids safe (not really. I would probably never notice unless I was trying to change lanes).

A trick I've learned when I'm subbing on a junior high run: when it's dark in the morning, turn on the roof light in the very back of the bus. Most of the kids that age think a substitute driver is an excuse to get crazy, and they love sitting in the back of the bus. With the light on, they know I can see them in my mirror, and they tend to behave a lot better. I learned that the hard way, so I've been passing that nugget of wisdom along to all the new drivers I encounter.

Bus drivers, as a group, are a fairly cantankerous lot. We tend to be quite independent-minded, and driving a bus is ideal because you're not being micromanaged by some supervisor looking over your shoulder. Your bus is your little fiefdom. That independent spirit also means that some bus drivers always feel they know better than the administrators and will argue with every new procedure or request. Seriously, it's like herding cats. Individually, we're pretty friendly people, and most of us drive buses as a side-hustle. Many bus drivers are actually small business owners and entrepreneurs who just need a little guaranteed extra cash. As a group, though, I'm not sure how anyone puts up with us. I like most of the drivers on a one-on-one basis, but having a crowd of us at a party would be a disaster.

I named my bus "Wildfire" in honor of Rex O'Herlihan's horse in the classic spoof western "Rustlers' Rhapsody." On, Wildfire, on!

Sideways

My daughter sent me these pictures of my grandson.

I can't stop looking at these pictures. I just want to hold that little guy and kiss him all over his tiny face and head. And if I run into anyone I know, I whip out my phone and make them look at the pictures, too.

Sian told me she put Tyler into the bassinet we bought for him. It vibrates when you push a button, and he really likes it, which is why he looks so happy.

Oh my gosh. Could you not just eat him up? He's a little over six pounds now, so he's doubled his birth weight. Way to go, kid!

In other news, I've been called as the ward Relief Society president. That is not something I ever, ever wanted to be, but I knew it was a distinct possibility about two months ago. When the former Relief Society president's husband was called as our new bishop, I knew she would have to be released and a new president called, and because I was the first counselor, I started going through the stages of grief. First was definitely denial. "Nope, nope, nope. Not doing it, Lord." I also did some bargaining. There was anger in there, too. Finally, I accepted it: "Fine, Lord, if that's what you want. But You know I am who I am, and if You still want me, You'll have to fill in for my flaws and faults," and that's when the call was extended.

Sadly, one of my first duties is helping with the funeral of one of our beloved congregation members, who just died after a relatively short battle with colon cancer. Her oldest daughter never married, and she has lived with her mother and taken care of her for years and years. But as soon as her mom died, all the relatives came out of the woodwork making demands and telling the daughter how she was doing everything wrong. They feel entitled to come into her house and take whatever they want, whether or not it's the daughter's or her mother's.

I hope my children never act like that when I and their dad have passed away. I will haunt them if they do. I'll whisper to them as a ghostly specter, "I brought you into this world and I will take. you. out of it." I think it will have more impact if I am already dead and can be spooky.

Last but not at all least, Parent's magazine showed up unexpectedly in my mailbox yesterday. Thank you, Magazine Fairy, for the truly delightful surprise. I'm going to pass it on to Sian and Nathan when I go down to see them next week.

My Very Own Homecoming Queen

I'm the Queen Mother.

Yes, I have another queen in the family. This time it's the high school Homecoming Queen of 2018-2019. My very own Elannah.

She's my lovely girl, and look how perfectly she's doing the "pageant T" with her feet! 

She wanted to do a pageant, and this one is a little less intense than most. There were still essays and interviews and evening gowns and all the normal pageant-y things, but her reign would require a week's worth of her time and not a year (unlike her sister). Sadly, there was no scholarship money, but what the heck! Not every girl can say she was the Homecoming Queen of her high school. I certainly can't.

We had a lot of fun shopping for the dress. Having gone through a pageant with Sophia, I am now much more savvy about what type of dress the judges are looking for, and for these small pageants they like something simple but elegant--something that flatters your coloring and figure but nothing so fru-fru or slinky that it detracts from the actual girl inside it. Elannah didn't think she'd like the high-low skirt on this one, but I insisted she try it on for the excellent quality of the material, cut, and color. She ended up loving it immediately. Plus, with no skirt to trip her up, it was very easy to walk in her heels; she just had to perfect the train swish as she turned.

Her dad choked when I told him how much we'd paid to rent it. He's recovered now, but it was a bit touch-and-go for a while.

The Homecoming Queen and her big sister, the queen of our city. They're royalty, sisters, and best friends.

Elannah is done with pageants now. She's tried it out and doesn't see a future in it for her (I'm not complaining: pageants are stressful, time-consuming, and expensive!), and she's certainly not interested in trying to follow in her sister's footsteps for the city pageant. But it was a fun experience, and she got to sing the national anthem for the Powder Puff football game during Homecoming Week.

The one terrible thing in all of this is that I thought I was recording her interview, evening gown competition, and talent, but I forgot to hit the "video" button on my phone and merely took a couple of very bad photographs instead. I'm still kicking myself. Elannah did a musical theater number with singing and tap dancing for her talent, and she did it so well.

I did manage to catch the very end of the pageant.



You can hear Gabrielle mention at the end how stressed she was because we truly weren't sure if it would be Elannah or another girl who won the crown.

I'm loving that Elannah and I are the only two girls in the house now. She loves getting lots of attention from her mom, and she paid me a lovely tribute during the pageant. She's a good kid, and I'm really proud of how hard she's working to develop her character. She's decided to serve a full-time mission in a couple years, and she just got her Patriarchal Blessing last Sunday, which was a wonderful thing.

One last note: I feel bad about this (sort of), but one of Elannah's attendants was also one of Sophia's attendants. The same girl got beat out by two sisters. That's got to rankle just a bit.