Vitamin Easy Rider

Foop, who vibrates a little high, has long been entertaining fantasies of long mother-son bike trips. You know, the kind that take you to wholesome, rugged locales usually reserved for Subaru commercials.

Meanwhile, Vitamin E likes his bike, but not enough to travel great distances - or even moderate ones - on it. This has been a source of some frustration. We'll go through all the preliminaries of donning appropriate footwear, securing the requisite protective gear, saddling up, and riding for about three blocks. It's kind of like putting twelve layers of clothes on your kid so you can go play in the snow only to have them throw two snowballs and march back inside.

But that was before the Illudium Q-36 Explosive Space Modulator*. OK, it's a bike trailer thing, but It. Is. The. Bomb.

E has a deep appreciation for speed and absolutely loved flying down the hills in our neighborhood. He kept shouting "Mom! I love this!!!" And then he'd cheer me on as I huffed and puffed on the uphills. Maybe I underestimated the added workload of an extra 5o+ lbs on the back end, but I don't mind.

We have arrived.



*(yes that's Marvin the Martian)

boys + drums

Wishes

Last night, before we went to bed, Vitamin E and I held hands, squeezed our eyes shut, and made a wish for the Mayor .

After E fell asleep, I just stayed there watching him, trying to imagine how The Mayor's parents must feel, thinking about the universal joy and anguish of parenting, and feeling both raw and grateful.

Long before I had even considered becoming a mother, a friend of mine told me that having a child was like taking your heart out of your chest, putting it into the body of this little thing and watching it run around all over the place. I had no idea how spot on he was.

So today I'm wishing that the Mayor will be able to go home, safe and sound, with his parents' hearts.