Planes Trains and Automobiles
He loved roller coasters. He loved planes, trains and automobiles. He loved anything transportation and my son still does at 23. I was raised with all sisters, so having a little boy was new for me. Being a quick study, I learned the ins and outs of the world of transportation quickly. We named him Jet in honor of my husband’s love of aviation.
I had my son late in life, actually, the same age that my mom had me. She used to tell me that I was “the best accident she ever had”. I was a costumer on a tv show right up until I gave birth. Having worked since I was a teenager, I figured I’d stay home with my newborn for a while and then go right back to work. That did not exactly happen, he was hard to leave.
The labor was grueling and long. My midwife stayed with me at home until it was time to go to the hospital. My girlfriend stayed too with her new baby sleeping in her car seat nearby. Determined to give birth naturally, I agonized through hours and hours of labor without medicine or an epidural. As time went on there was no dilation, just painful contractions. True to his personality he did not want to come out. All warm and cozy, no rush to enter the cold noisy world. Who could blame him? My helpless husband could only watch and offer sympathy while staying out of the way of my OB, midwife and girlfriends who came for support.
When they discovered that Jet was transverse, the doctor called in a large strong German woman who attempted to turn him in the correct direction for delivery. After several painful failed attempts, the only option was a C section. It felt like failure.
He came out perfect, wrinkle free and 10 pounds of cuteness. My husbands’ first comment when seeing our new baby boy was, “he’s so cute!” As beautiful as he was, I couldn’t help but feel disappointed in not having delivered him naturally. It bothered me for months.
The first few weeks at home were intense, isolating and overwhelming. My mom wasn’t there to help and neither was my mother in law. Did I appear so self-sufficient that they thought I didn’t need or want any help? It felt lonely. We chose Dr. Paul Fleiss as our pediatrician. He had an infamous daughter who was known as the Hollywood Madame and the Doc himself was known as one of the nicest men around. He was a medical renegade who advocated for breast feeding, non-circumcision and attached parenting. His advice to use breast milk in Jet’s nose to clear up stuffiness was life changing. He became my surrogate mom and answered frequent desperate phones calls at any hour of the day or night. My son was clingy, colicky and a crier, most likely as a result of his tummy discomfort. Dr. Fleiss’s answer to my pleas of what to do with my nonstop crying baby was to “nurse him, cuddle him and love him”. He was so right.
When I was taught the baby-burrito wrap that swaddled Jet, and I learned to gently shake him while in my arms, he finally calmed the heck down. He felt soothed and I felt like a better mom.
Motion was his calming mechanism. When we bought a motorized swing at 4 months, I had my first stretch of sleep since he was born. When he was old enough to go on rides at an amusement park, carnival or fair, he was in heaven. Roller coasters, bumper cars, teacups anything that moved up and down or around was a lure for Jet. Designing parks on Roller Coaster Tycoon was one of his favorite pastimes.
We rode the train at the farmers market every Sunday, chocking on the fumes. We went to Travel Town where we explored stationary trains. We took him to the little trains called The Live Steamers where we rode with grown men engineers wearing overalls and striped hats. (We would joke that our son might actually grow up to be one of those guys) We rode the open kids train that was decorated for Christmas, Halloween and other holidays with the cheapest, most pathetic décor. It made us laugh, he loved it. We ended up with a giant Thomas The Tank train set that took up half of the room. He knew all the players and we watched the Thomas videos hundreds of times along with I Love Toy Trains.
Cars were a huge hit in our home. I could buy a $1.00 hot wheel that Jet would play with for hours, creating roads, bridges and jumps to zoom his car around. He would get so involved in his car zooming that he didn’t notice there were 3 masked gunmen robbing the bank we were in and that I was lying on the floor trying to get his attention, while they yelled “get the fuck down!”
Driving the cars at Disneyland and Legoland was the cherry on top.
He learned about planes from books we read when he was a toddler. His dad’s love of all things flying enhanced his interest while memorizing the names and sounds they each make. At one point he considered getting his pilot’s license.
As Jet became a teen and was able to officially drive, cars took precedence. His first car was an ancient BMW that a friend was saving for his son. It turned out to be a money pit. The next 2 cars he crashed , one over a cliff and the other into a guard rail in Malibu Canyon. Fortunately, he was not hurt in either accident, nor did he hurt anyone. He now drives a 20-year-old Honda that he fixed up. He loves working on his cars, is able to figure out what every mechanical problem is and relishes the challenge. We do wrangle his car parts into the garage to make sure our home doesn’t look like a mechanic shop, or Sanford and Son. He’s learned to drive slower.
Now that he is unemployed and has some free time because of the coronavirus pandemic, he’s returned to Roller Coaster Tycoon, the new version, inventing new theme parks.
