Taxi!

I always thought that it was a bit cliche to hear mothers calling themselves taxi drivers. I thought, "Yeah, so you spend a lot of time in the car. What did you think life was going to be like?" Kind of like those new mothers who are always complaining on Facebook about the fact that their babies cry and have fussy days and don't sleep through the night. Did they really think they were going to be that exceptional in their parenting that they could avoid all that typical newborn business?

But there are some days, when I spend most of my day driving hither and yon, that I, too (cliche or not) am ready to put the taxi sign and a phone number on my car. I mean, if I'm going to be driving all day, I might as well earn some money doing it, don't you think? There are always plenty of extra seats in the van so it wouldn't be a space issue. In fact, I'm considering installing a bathroom in the rear of the van so that we wouldn't even have to make pit stops. That should be a drawing card when trying to turn this into a business.

Take tomorrow for example. Within a 3 hour period, I will have traveled from Mechanicsburg to Harrisburg, back to Mechanicsburg, back to Harrisburg, to Lemoyne, back to Harrisburg, back to Lemoyne, then home to Mechanicsburg. All so the Good Doctor can stay home and watch himself on the telly. Wouldn't it make sense to earn some money from all of this? I could easily pick up clients (are they called clients?) while I'm out and about and drop them where they need to go.

The main advantage to taxiing, actually the only advantage to playing taxi driver, is that I get a lot of reading in. When I'm the stay-at-home parent, I find plenty of necessary things to do, including but not limited to, laundry, vacuuming, general cleaning and picking up, supper preparation, and sibling reconciliation. In the van I can take a book on tape for the trip and I can bring a good old-fashioned book along for the times I'm told to park and wait.

This morning I started a book that my friend, Kym, had recommended to me many moons ago. It took me this long not because I didn't trust her opinion but because my to-read list was too-long and my to-do list was too-immediate. By the end of my taxiing this evening, I find myself with a mere 40 pages left of the almost 200 page book. That's what one extra-long dental appointment and a rainy in-the-dark soccer practice will do for the book-lover's soul.

Obviously I had plenty of wait time today to make headway in my book. But it wasn't just the time factor; I love this little book. I knew I'd like it since I love biographies. A friend once told me that she hates biographies as she has enough adventure in her life. Conversely, then, one must conclude that I have no adventure in my life. None. Nada. Nil.

But apparently Fred Rogers did because one of his friends, Tim Madigan, wrote this delightful story about him. Prior to reading this book, I would have summed up Fred Rogers' life with this statement, "He was a TV personality who wore a cardigan, changed his shoes while he sang to children, liked puppets, and knew the difference between real life and make-believe." 150 pages later I see things much differently. Thanks to Kym and her suggestion to read I'm Proud of You: My Friendship with Fred Rogers, I have been informed, entertained, and challenged. I want to encourage more, love more, forgive more, and impact more. I want to follow the example of Fred Rogers.

Don't worry. I haven't given up Tim Hawkins for Fred Rogers. I may want to be more LIKE Mr. Rogers, but I still want to BE Tim Hawkins when I grow up.