When I first logged in to do some work last night, I noticed a million (seemed like it, anyway -- certainly an overwhelming number) windows open on my laptop, some indicating unfinished work and others indicating the rushed end to my workday on Friday. One of the windows was a Lync message to a friend, telling him some of my plans for the weekend. We didn't have any definitive plans, so I told him "probably" these three things, in no particular order:
- Go to the beach
- Ride my bike twice, longer than the 8-mile route I had been doing
- Get back to teaching Cal to ride his bike
I smiled when I read it last night but somehow forgot about it come morning. As I walked from my car to the train, I was feeling hints of disappointment that I hadn't done the big thing I wanted to do yesterday, which was essentially clean and de-clutter our picked-up but pig-sty of a house. Whoop di doo.
Then I remembered the message...
We did go to the beach... well, Cal, Ella and I did. I'm noticing a pattern -- we initially have every intention of going as a family. It'll be fun. Cal declares he doesn't want to go. Dan says he'll stay home with Cal so the girls can still go. Cal decides at the 11th hour that he really does want to go. Dan already has it in his head that he isn't going to go and has planned something else, typically productive, for the day. And off the three of us are to the beach, sans Daddy.
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| At the beach |
Though not stress-free by any means, being solo with the kids at the beach is surprisingly not too bad, certainly not unbearable and, frankly, actually enjoyable. The worst part is coordinating trips to the bathroom, which are all too frequent given Ella's penchant for all types of bathrooms (the porta-potty type being her favorite). I first try to force Cal to go with us, fail, and then compromise with a "stay right here... RIGHT HERE" with some random consequence that has no meat to it. Other than that, it's really just an exercise in keeping both kids within my line of sight and equally balancing the attention I give to each kid, watching her do a cannonball into the water on one side of the pool and him zip down the waterslide on the other. And in between I might try a few of the strokes and kicks I've been watching Cal learn at swimming for the past two years myself.
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| Hidden cemetary |
I did ride my bike, twice, 13+ miles on Saturday (solo) and 14+ on Sunday (pulling Ella behind me in the Burley). I discovered a new trail a mile and a half from our house that moved along a greenway behind one subdivision to the next with familiar prairie grass and farm fields in between. I discovered a hidden cemetary filled with wild flowers and more prairie grass, and peeking out of it in the middle a pencil-like headstone, any name on which I could not see from behind the wrought iron fence surrounding it. I rode along train tracks and over a bridge twice. I hopped rough curbs, taking me back to my days of daily riding with traffic and around and sometimes over small obstacles. I rode from one end to the other, miles apart. I felt like a kid... or the young adult I once was.
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| Balancing and pedaling |
And on Saturday, we did get Cal back out to the grassy incline at a nearby nature preserve, the same one that he and I had tackled just a week before. This time the whole family went to witness, teach and ecourage. It was great. Thrice, Cal coasted down the hill like a pro just as he had left off, and he quickly transitioned from coasting with his feet dangling, to coasting with his feet on the pedals to pedalling down it. I cheered from the top, Dan videoed and cheered from the middle, and Ella, standing with Dan, ran after him once he got to the bottom. It was great. A true family affair.
As quickly as Cal had started pedalling down the hill, Dan had him on a shorter hill and then a flat surface. He only needed to learn how to start from a stop without a hill to do the work for him. With only a couple of demonstrations by big Dan on little bike and then feeling it out for himself, Cal caught on to this quickly. Once again, I was reminded of the things that our adult selves do so naturally, so effortlessly -- walk, swing, pedal -- that really aren't necessarily natural, that had to be learned. It took a bit of time, a little instruction, a lot of encouragement and perhaps a kid, a dad and a mom realizing how close we were that we just couldn't quit, but Cal eventually figured out how to start riding his bike from a stop. And off we went to get that Lego set I had promised him on August 1st if he learned to ride his bike by the end of August. It was August 8th. I did not expect this to happen so quickly -- nothing ever does.
If there was any doubt that he'd retain his newfound skill overnight or that he'd get tentative on the sidewalks in our neighborhood, that was thwarted by Cal's frequent and even more skilled bike riding throughout the day on Sunday.
So my house may not be clean or free of clutter that's been bugging me for months now; but I don't care. I had a good weekend despite it. This makes me happy.
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