Whew, I'm sore, physically sore. But in a good way.
I've been riding my bike a lot. Sure, I took some ribbing at work over the pics on the blog, but who cares? And yeah, my Harley riding neighbor good naturely ribbed me by saying I should 'move up to a real bike', but again, so what?
Monday after work I took YaYa on a 1.4 mile bike ride around the neighborhood. She seemed surprised and genuinely grateful, thanking me three times along the ride. (there is nothing quite as sweet as a sincere 'Thank you Daddy!').
Of course half an hour after our return she was screaming that she hated me and that I was the worst Daddy ever, but such is life.
The next day she and I went to exchange her bike. After only a week the kickstand wasn't working, the brakes were locking up and the decorations were falling off. The heck with that. Lisa and I wanted to trade up to a Schwinn, but she had her heart set on a 'Glamour Girl', and without Lisa to make me stand my ground I caved and bought it for her.
Then we took another bike ride, a shorter one, to a local custard stand, where we ate outside on the patio.
Fear not, my diet remained on track. I had a hot dog but skipped both onion rings and custard. Hey, in my book that's like fasting.
Then today, again after work, I took the first real ride with the bike trailer attached (I'd make some practice runs the day before, but just around the block). With YaYa on her bike, me on mine, and Lump and Smiley in the trailer, we set off for my Mom's house. [Lu was already visiting there]
It was misery.
Three blocks into theride YaYa fell in an intersection. I tried to turn around but before I could a woman jumped in front of her to hold off a left turning ahole that was set to run her over. "Let her get through!" the woman yelled.
Thank you stranger.
Soon I came to the realization that rush hour traffic, even when you are sticking to the sidewalk, SUCKS. Plus there was glass all over the sidewalk in spots and I worried about our tires.
Round about a mile down the road YaYa's left pedal fell off in an intersection (natch!) and yet another good Samaritan stepped in to walk her across. Turns out the pedal hadn't been attached (it was assembled in store), nor had there even been an honest attempt; the plastic was still over the appropriate hole. I have no idea how we pulled off the two rides before it fell off.
A mile later it fell off again. And again. And again. Five times in total before we reached my Mom's (where I properly repaired it).
Meanwhile the kids HATED the trailer. Smiley kept trying to climb out whenever we stopped, Lump screamed and squirmed and cried . . ugh. They both despised the helmets I'd bought for them too.
Two plus miles in I was soaked and exhausted and regretting the whole shabang.
[Hey, I'm 350#. While I imagine even in this day and age it's a rather exclusive and dubious club, I still think I'm in better shape than what you'd expect from a guy my size.]
One time when I stopped to rig up her pedal the baby was howling and YaYa would not so much as walk towards her to console her. So I announced her bike could stay where it was for some kid to pinch and I got on my bike and rode away. Just a few yards, mind you, before YaYa relented and watched the Lump. But it wasa harbinger of things to come.
We finally got to my Mom's and ok, the accomplishment was worth the pain. It was a 3.2 mile ride [I later retraced the route in my car] and probably the longest distance I'd ridden in my life.
At my Mom's I'd actually entertained the idea of having a conversation with my Mom, but it was not meant to be. First off YaYa lost her slip of paper with her lock combination and insisted we retrace our steps. Thankfully a block into the walk I spotted the paper in the gutter and was a momentary hero. I say thankfully because I was not about to walk any further.
But YaYa was exhausted and looked the part and a meltdown soon began. My kids have a lovely way of doing that primarily (but not solely) in front of my family. My Mom was upset with me when I told her to 'stop mollycoddling' YaYa when she cried non-stop after she and Smiley went at it and I crunched the proceedings. I am much tougher as a parent than my family norm and so I inevitably look the part of a villain.
I was too tired to ride back so I'd hoped to get a ride from my Dad, pick up the van and return for the bikes. It took more than an hour for my Dad to come home, a solid hour of meltdowns across the board.
Oh, and Smiley crapped on my Mom's bathroom floor. I assume, because it eases my mind, that he did it because he just barely failed to make it to the toilet.
Later, after resting for awhileYaYa apologized, and I do think it was sincere, but I'm still going to have Lis forbid her from using her bike during the day Thursday. And a day spent inside and without computer privileges might also be in store.
But all that normal parenting stuff aside, I'm loving the heck out of my bike.
