Okay, yesterday was the Best. Mother's Day. Ever. The kidlets made me all kinds of sweet cards and pictures, stories and painted rock paper weights. We ate blueberry muffins, listened to the Tiger game (Tigers won! So did the Mariners!), ran a couple of errands and cleaned the garage while Stephen put some insulation in the attic to help keep the upstairs cooler. While manual labor might not sound like a great way to spend Mother's Day, it was exactly what I wanted to do... we've had so little time to spend on the house that all I asked for was a day of it with no complaints from kids that they were BORED.
Later in the day we did all go down to the park and Nathan got back on his bike a year after first removing the training wheels (with marginal success). After some initial stubbornness (on both mother and son's part), he started pedaling and didn't look back. The boy can now ride a bike and I am very proud.
We ended the day with salmon on the grill and a picnic in the backyard. Well, we actually ended the day with baths for two very grimy kids. Slept well, they did.
In keeping with the bike-riding theme, this poem came into my mailbox this morning. Made me predictably weepy.
Learning the Bicycle by Wyatt Prunty
The older children pedal past Stable as little gyros, spinning hard To supper, bath, and bed, until at last We also quit, silent and tired Beside the darkening yard where trees Now shadow up instead of down. Their predictable lengths can only tease Her as, head lowered, she walks her bike alone Somewhere between her wanting to ride And her certainty she will always fall. Tomorrow, though I will run behind, Arms out to catch her, she'll tilt then balance wide Of my reach, till distance makes her small, Smaller, beyond the place I stop and know That to teach her I had to follow And when she learned I had to let her go.
Irreverent mom of two. Webgrrl, writer, geek, seeker of a skosh of balance and a smidgen of spiritual enlightenment. Lifelong Tiger fan, with all of the emotional damage that entails. Drinker of much coffee. Hopeless romantic. Occasionally troublesome. Redhead by choice.