Bike On
I can now safely say we made it through last week's Ride Your Bike To School week. And yes, when I say "we" I mean it because Bryon and I biked, walked, jogged, cajoled, encouraged, and begged our way through the week right along with Jake and Sam.
The idea was to have the kids ride to school, get a punch in a card and by week's end, if they had biked four or more days, they got a parade, a prize and root beer float at a nearby restaurant.
Day one was exhilarating. Day two, proud. Day three, "Are we still doing this?" Day four, I was praying that day five would be rained out.
It's not that I don't enjoy biking, or enjoy the kids biking. I actually found it quite fun - it created a palpable buzz at the school. Parents on bikes, kids on bikes, sponsors and volunteers on the corners cheering the kids as they rode by.
But I'm not an aggressive cyclist. I consider it whimsical and romantic. I like to ride a bike in a skirt for Pete's sake. I found this adolescent Tour de France mentally and physically exhausting. For one thing my kids pay no attention to cycling rules. For them it's best when they weave from left to right and coast from sidewalk to street to sidewalk. For them there is no such thing as right of way or heed or stop.
And then there's the backpacks. The backpacks Sam and Jake carry are heavier than anything I carried in college, let alone elementary school. There are folders and library books and permission slips and lunchboxes. One particular day I had Sam's backpack strapped on my back and Jake's messenger bag across my shoulder when it started slipping and swinging. I was desperately trying to maintain my balance (truth be told, I was a little panicked). The way I was steering I must've looked like I was avoiding land mines. "What do you have in here Jake? It's so heavy!"
Turns out he got to take home the class Halloween pumpkin. I was carrying a full-size pumpkin and it was swinging and swaying between my knees like a heavy teat. If it wasn't so funny, it would've been really funny.
Despite the forecast day five was not rained out. We made it to school, punched our fifth punch and Sam and Jake giddily picked out their bike prizes. But the best part - the part that really did make the effort worthwhile - was Friday afternoon when all the kids and parents rode en masse to claim their root beer floats. As we rounded the corner near the restaurant volunteers cheered everyone on.
After a little celebrating, eating and photo opps, it started raining.
The idea was to have the kids ride to school, get a punch in a card and by week's end, if they had biked four or more days, they got a parade, a prize and root beer float at a nearby restaurant.
Day one was exhilarating. Day two, proud. Day three, "Are we still doing this?" Day four, I was praying that day five would be rained out.
It's not that I don't enjoy biking, or enjoy the kids biking. I actually found it quite fun - it created a palpable buzz at the school. Parents on bikes, kids on bikes, sponsors and volunteers on the corners cheering the kids as they rode by.
But I'm not an aggressive cyclist. I consider it whimsical and romantic. I like to ride a bike in a skirt for Pete's sake. I found this adolescent Tour de France mentally and physically exhausting. For one thing my kids pay no attention to cycling rules. For them it's best when they weave from left to right and coast from sidewalk to street to sidewalk. For them there is no such thing as right of way or heed or stop.
And then there's the backpacks. The backpacks Sam and Jake carry are heavier than anything I carried in college, let alone elementary school. There are folders and library books and permission slips and lunchboxes. One particular day I had Sam's backpack strapped on my back and Jake's messenger bag across my shoulder when it started slipping and swinging. I was desperately trying to maintain my balance (truth be told, I was a little panicked). The way I was steering I must've looked like I was avoiding land mines. "What do you have in here Jake? It's so heavy!"
Turns out he got to take home the class Halloween pumpkin. I was carrying a full-size pumpkin and it was swinging and swaying between my knees like a heavy teat. If it wasn't so funny, it would've been really funny.
Despite the forecast day five was not rained out. We made it to school, punched our fifth punch and Sam and Jake giddily picked out their bike prizes. But the best part - the part that really did make the effort worthwhile - was Friday afternoon when all the kids and parents rode en masse to claim their root beer floats. As we rounded the corner near the restaurant volunteers cheered everyone on.
After a little celebrating, eating and photo opps, it started raining.
posted by Romine Family at 4:13 PM
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