That wasn't for us. Having a car of any kind is bad for our marriage, as Lance drives like a grandma and I am a little more aggressive (in previous years probably reckless was a more apt descriptor). Additionally, I am so absent-minded I am also prone to get tickets of all sorts.
On top of the general anti-car sentiment in this household, there is also driving in London, which will make the most genteel of us see red. Add to that an insane driving test required of all Americans after residency of one year, residential parking permits, registration, insurance, the rising cost of petro, and a congestion tax.
In any event, I had long decided to join the small but growing trend in London of pushing my little one around in a cargo bike. Started by dear friend Laurel Dougal, who road her four boys around in one till the oldest was 10, there are five or six Mormon mums around the city who have followed suit. One mum confided in me that the bike had changed her life.
It certainly has for me. In the short week I've had it functional (been healthy enough post-labor and had child seats installed), I've been able to get to church in less than 45 minutes (versus an hour and a half on the bus), do three big shops, run several errands, and take myself to the British Library to do research five days. Gideon loves it, I am getting exercise, and I am no longer compromising any of his naps for the sake of getting something done.
The cargo bike or tricycle for children comes to the UK from the Netherlands and Scandanavia. My particular brand comes from the Netherlands. It is part scooter, as it has an electrical lift to enable me to get up Hampstead and Highgate hills to church.