The Evolution of a Bike Ride

We bought our bikes soon after my first son was born.  My wife and I got matching Giant cross-road bikes, ones that would be comfortable for a long ride down a paved path, but could also bounce along off-road.  We also bought a co-pilot seat and helmet for our son, and a rack for the mini-van.  (NOTE:  Dude seriously, a mini-van?  You are soo cool.)

When we got home I attached a wire frame to the rear of my bike and slid the co-pilot seat onto it.  We were set.  Many of the rides in those early days were along paved trails.  Being new parents, we were totally paranoid about riding on the open roads with our baby.  Even in the neighborhood.  We eventually conquered our fears, and whether the rides were short jaunts to a neighborhood playground or several miles of pathway at a local park, we got good use out of our bikes.

Later my son got a bike of his own, and it worked for the rides in the neighborhood, but for summer trips to Hilton Head or rides along the river he still sat in the co-pilot seat.

Then his brother was born, and there was an issue with seating capacity.  It all worked out, though.   Right around the time my second son was able to ride comfortably in the co-pilot seat, a friend sold me one of those attachments to turn a regular bike into a tandem.  Since the co-pilot frame was attached to my bike, my wife’s bike became the tandem, and my older son was just big enough to ride it.  We could still go out as a duo, each with a child in tow.

Then my older son grew big enough to ride on his own and we hit the trails as a trio.  When my younger son was finally big enough to ride the tandem I retired the co-pilot seat to its hook on the garage wall.  I didn’t bother to take the frame off the back of my bike, mainly out of laziness, a quality in which I am abundant, but also out of foreshadowing, which you will understand in the next paragraph, so please read on…

This year my younger son was finally big enough to ride his own bike, and our trio became a foursome.  We took our bikes to Hilton Head this summer and rode them to the beach every day.  I found a way to strap two boogie boards together, and attach them to – you’ll never guess – the co-pilot frame.  We bought new beach chairs that had straps so we could wear them like backpacks, and each chair had a small cooler-pouch and a pouch for books / magazines.  Our beach umbrella came in a sack that I could sling across my chest like a bandolier, and my older son wore a backpack with our beach toys.  We didn’t have to hunt for parking spots, or get the car (okay, mini-van) sandy and salty.  We were the mark of efficiency.

We have a BMX park nearby home, and both boys are big enough to ride the course, something I really enjoy doing with them.  We still go on long rides, there are several trails that cross town, each with a number of parks along the way.  Nowadays our rides are slow paced…they must be, so the young one can keep up.  But I have a feeling that our rides will soon evolve again, and both boys will be able to keep up with us.

And then…then my wife and I will start to slow down, and the boys will pull ahead.  We’ll be the ones struggling to keep up.  The kids will be turning back to us, impatiently telling us to keep moving, pedal, don’t stop, this was your idea…after all, we’ve said the same things to them enough times.

But you know what?  As long as we’re still riding together, I don’t mind.

We think we're so cool

Once upon a time, my wife and I were cool. We went to cool places and hung out with cool people. We wore cool clothes and said cool things. We were arctic, we were so cool.

Things heated up when we started a family. Kids can do that. They add warmth to your life and soul, but that warmth slowly melts away your cool.

First to go is the ability to travel to cool places. This is followed by dramatic changes to the company you keep. You hang out with non-parents less and less. Non-parents don't understand that infants don't care if you have a hangover. And if you didn't drink to begin with, a) why the heck not, and b) non-parents also don't understand that you have to stop what you are doing twice a day for six to nine months so your baby can nap, so bear with me.

Cool clothing is next on the list. Your children may wear cool clothes, but you are so broke from buying kid stuff you are afraid to splurge on yourself. I have never splurged on my own clothing. God that sounds bad, if your mind is in the gutter where mine is. If I ever look well-dressed, it is because my wife purchased good clothes for me and told me when to wear them.

The last cubes of cool to melt away are your language skills. Elimination of foul language is the beginning of the end. As it turns out, it is inappropriate to tell a crying baby to "shut the f-up." Who knew. Instead, you are supposed to hold them and coo lovingly, or just let them cry it out while you slowly go insane. You are going to go insane anyway, as a parent, so you may as well start the process right away. Once you have total disarmament of your F-bombs, it's all downhill from there.

The isolation mandated by parenthood keeps you at a distance from new cultural trends. You don't go to the hot new hangouts. Actually, you just don't go out at all, but that's too depressing to mention. You can only watch kid-friendly TV, at least until you get them to bed. Then if you put on a movie, you are likely to fall asleep watching it because you are too tired from dealing with the kids all evening.

And you don't understand the new slang. You are vaguely aware that it exists, but you rarely have instance to practice its proper form and end up saying the wrong thing the wrong way at the wrong time. My wife was watching TV and some criminal did something really stupid and got busted.

"Oh, smack!" She said to the TV. Then she turned to me and asked, "Is that what you say?"

"Snap."

"Oh yeah. Snap." At least she got the timing right.

Luckily this little exchange occurred in the privacy of our own home, not in a public forum where many people would be aware of it. That would really be embarrassing, you know.

A Rude Awakening

Ah, Saturday. The end of the work week. The beginning of the weekend. My day to sleep in. After waking up early all week long to get up and write before work, even on the mornings when my wife tries to convince me to sleep in, I'm relieved when the weekend comes, the cycle hums, ready to race to you....wait, that's the theme song from Happy Days. Must be cautious not to Jump the Shark so quickly.

My goal is to sleep in until my body wakes up AND I am ready to get out of bed. Well, my body woke up at about 7:30, but I looked at my clock and said no f-ing way and went back to sleep.

"Vic's puking!" Max shouted as he ran into our room at 7:56.

Being a parent can bring you great joy, and children can be a tremendous blessing. But as the old saying goes, every silver lining conceals a thunderstorm of vomit (or something like that).

Luckily, Max (7) helped Vic (4) to the bathroom, so there was no mess to clean up.

Now, on with my Saturday...