Since I recently admitted my physical out of shape condition in the post What Doesn’t Kill You, I thought I would share about the last time I was on a bike, fifteen years ago. Perhaps it will provide understanding as to what might have kept me off the (dreaded, uncomfortable) bike seat.
My kids were three (B), five (C) and ten (B2). It was a sunny Friday morning, and we were riding our bikes to school, as we were a one vehicle family.
Actually, it was my oldest daughter and I who were biking, the younger two were in a bike trailer, facing each other. On this particular ride, I was in the front, with C & B trailing behind and B2 picked up the end.
The pair in the trailer (C & B) seriously loved each other, they also fought like banshees. Which is exactly what they were doing that morning.
We were barely half way to our destination of school, when the memorable situation occurred.
“Moooommmm, B hit me,” said C (with a whiny voice).
To which I replied (with motherly wisdom), “B, no hitting, please.”
It continued …
“Moooommmm, B hit me again.” This time with more whining, more pleading.
To which I replied (with restraint), “B, hitting is not acceptable.”
“Moooommmm, B hit me again.” Now with cries of pain.
This time, with no restraint whatsoever, (but much motherly frustration), “hit him back!”
To which B2 cried out, “Mom did you just tell her to him?”
Now, you need to know that, though C was quite able to get her brother (B) in trouble, she did not, does not, have a physically violent bone in her body. So if she were to hit him back it would be the equivalent of whipping someone with a wet noodle.
We continued on.
“Moooommmm, B hit me again.”
This time I could barely hear her words, for the belly sobs coming from within C.
In total and complete frustration (and the secret wish within me that I was dropping off the two of them to school, along with their sister), I yelled back, “Hit him back, and make sure it hurts!
We did eventually get to school, and drop off their sister (who, no doubt, was shaking her head as she went into the school, having lost any respect for me as a mother that morning).
I am certain that I found a private spot, got off my bike and threatened B to never, EVER, hit his sister again.
And that was the last time I rode a bike …
until last weekend …
ummer was year ten, and, quite possibly, his last.
I got to go to watch the most beautiful mornings and evenings at the the edge of the lake, where the pesky geese would arrive, numerous times each day (to eat the treats dropped on the ground then pooh all over the grass). The lake was often still at these beginnings and endings, but ever so alive with activity during the daytime, as campers and neighbours were boating, swimming and various other water activities.
decorated with benches, strings of Christmas lights, and staggered wood planks framing the ‘stage’. The guest speakers communicating the love and acceptance of Christ in their words and in how they interacted with everyone there, all the while also caring for and communicating love and acceptance to their two young children.
itsawonderfilledlife 