Sum, Sum, Summa Time

Summer is here, and at our house, it's in full swing!  Since I am no longer committed to kicking Organic Chemistry's butt (a high A in lecture and a high A in lab for both semesters, thank you very much), I am absolutely loving all of the free time I now have to do FUN things.  I know that memorizing hundreds of chemical reactions and their mechanisms is incredibly thrilling, but after two semesters, I was just ready for a change of pace.  You know what they say about too much of a good thing....

For me, summer started the day after my last final exam for the semester.  Unfortunately the first day of my summer vacation was the day Ian ended up in the E.R. with 14 stitches in his eyebrow.  His injury didn't slow us down a bit, though.  I had loads of fun mentally planned for this summer, and we jumped right in to the freezing cold pool of summer time fun with gusto, which is kind of the way Cole and I do pretty much everything related to parenting.

This year I threw Cole a major curve ball when I told him I did NOT want  jewelry for Mother's Day.  After a complete psychiatric evaluation, Cole decided I was telling the truth and was, in fact, mentally stable, and he asked me what I wanted instead.  I told him I wanted a bike and a bike trolley for the boys to ride in.  He liked the sound of bikes, and quickly agreed.  I knew this was a major decision so I took my bike search VERY seriously.  I scouted for bikes like a panelist from Consumer Reports, except instead of noting performance, reliability, and overall value, I noted colors, accessories, and overall cuteness.  Finally, I found an adorable pink and white Schwinn beach cruiser at Sears that was PERFECT!  It scored above average in the "colors test" and blew the competition away in the "overall cuteness" category.  I had clearly found the best bike for my needs, and couldn't wait to take it home and have Cole take a picture of me while I proudly grasped the handle bars in my perfectly manicured-to-match-the-bike hands.  My excitement was squashed like a bug when Cole said, "I would not pull a bike trolley with a bike that has no gears.  I don't think you should get this bike."  Gears?  That wasn't even a testing category!  They aren't even cute!

I was so bummed out all I wanted to do was pout in my room or maybe kick a bunch of rocks around at the school yard, but I knew the search must go on!   I continued my search, slightly deflated, but bounced back quickly when I found a very comparable Schwinn cruiser with gears with a pink body with white fenders at Target.  Plus, this bike had a pink basket on the front!  It was a bike that I would have been forced to arrange to be "stolen" as a kid but wanted to snuggle with in bed as I fell asleep at night as an adult, especially since I was able to find a super cute helmet to match!  I would have ridden the bike to the register if I had a little less dignity.  I refrained, but there was no denying that I was in love.  It met all of my criteria: cute colors, cute accessories, and a very high overall cuteness quotient.  After my disappointment at Sears, I was so relieved that this new bike I loved also passed all of my highly scientific tests.  It was a match made in bike factory heaven.

Here's "Lulu", my bike.  She was named by Schwinn, not me.  Isn't she a looker?  Her back fender is currently on a shelf in the garage, but she won't be showing off her back wheel like a hussie for much longer.

As if my bike didn't scream "MOM COMING THROUGH!" on her own, I decided I needed the addition of a bike trolley, just in case there was any question as to whether or not I am a mother.  I couldn't wait to go on bike rides with the boys sitting serenely in the trolley while I pedaled through town as people waved merrily at me and my ducklings.  I pictured us wending our way through the streets on hot summer days while the perfect summer soundtrack could inexplicably be heard all around us.  We would laugh together while the boys learned all of the different species of trees in town, checked birds off of their Audubon "Birds of the Midwest" lists, identified butterflies from ten paces, and sipped their ice-cold lemonade without ever having a single tense moment.  By the way, in my fantasy, I never broke a sweat and was perfectly tanned.  I've found that having realistic expectations helps me to be a better mother.

Our summer transportation

(Doesn't the driveway look great?  We just had it sealed.)

Once the trolley was securely attached to my back wheel, I couldn't wait to get out of the driveway and onto the road.  The boys, however, could wait.  Neither of them cared much for the trolley.  Huh, this could put a serious damper on things.  I didn't really get too concerned with their bad attitudes because I knew once they felt the wind on their faces they would LOVE the trolley.  Once they were securely seated in their trolley, we were off.  It had been a LONG time since I had ridden a bike.  Probably since jr. high school, to be exact.  But, you know the old saying, "It's like riding a bike.", so I didn't foresee any problems.  Did I mention that I've found having realistic expectations helps me to be a better mother?

As you can see from the picture above, our driveway has a slight slope toward the road.  The perfect starting point for a long, relaxing bike ride.  I cheerfully hopped onto my fabulous pink and white seat and glided down the driveway and into the road without pushing the pedals once.  The wind blew through my hair and I instantly felt as though all of my worries were carried away with the fresh summer breeze.  I picked up speed quickly and coasted down a side street feeling light as a feather.  Suddenly, it became quite obvious that we were having an earthquake.  My handlebars were shaking violently in my tight grip.  The front wheel of my bike was going all over the road and me and my defenseless ducklings were just going to have to ride this thing out.  I had no control over the bike, and we were being tossed about like popcorn kernels in the microwave.  I frantically searched for Cole, hoping he hadn't been knocked off of his bike and thrown to the road now in need of medical attention.  He was riding smoothly beside me and wasn't veering at all, what the heck?  I couldn't believe how localized this earthquake was.  I looked around in all directions, and it appeared that nothing else was feeling the effects of this earthquake either.  Now I really couldn't believe how localized this "rolling earthquake" was.  I could NOT get away from it.  It seemed to be moving right underneath me at the exact speed I was pedaling.  Finally, I realized that there was a very slight chance the earthquake was not actually an earthquake, but my own horrible riding abilities.  That didn't seem to be a possibility since people always say that you never forget how to ride a bike, you just pick it back up, but as far as I could tell that was the only explanation.  Well as it turns out, I must have been the WORST bike rider on the planet as a kid.  I was all over the place in a desperate attempt to stay on two wheels, four if you count the trolley in tow, and I of course had to do my best to hide my obvious lack of skill from Cole.  I didn't want to get grounded from my bike during the first week of summer vacation!

Cole kept glancing at me as I rode wildly down the road with the concentration of a brain surgeon and the steadiness of an unmanned fire hose.  Why couldn't he just mind his own business?  It's not like I was pulling a trolley with the two most important people in the world in it.  Oh, wait.  We finally reached the end of level ground and it was time to climb the first hill of our ride.  My bike began to slow on its own so I began pedaling a bit harder.  "Wow, this is a bit harder than I expected," I thought.  I pushed harder, and harder, and harder still but the bike didn't really care for the hill.  I decided to stand and put all of my weight on the pedals just to give us a little jump start.  "Huh, I expected that to have more of an impact", I thought while silently cursing myself for having lost a few pounds in the previous month.  At that point in time, I needed every ounce of weight my body had to drag the trolley up the hill.  I pushed and grunted and pedaled and gasped and repeated until I FINALLY made it to the top of the hill.  I was fairly certain I needed an oxygen mask to fall from a tree and dangle directly in front of my face just like on a plane if I was going to be able to continue on this bike ride.  I wonder if the basket would hold a small oxygen tank?

Cole was far ahead by this point and realized I had been left in the dust.  He circled back.  "Ya alright?", he asked.  I managed to blurt out, "Yeah, I just need to get used to pulling this trolley."  Of course this was a lie.  What I truly wanted to say was, "No, I'm not alright!  I think I'm going to die.  This trolley was a stupid idea, and I never want to look at it again.  Tomorrow, while you are at work, I am going to "accidentally" forget it is in the driveway and "accidentally" back over it with my car, probably twice for good measure, and "accidentally" destroy it.  How does that grab ya?"  But, I just smiled and pretended that I was the happiest person on the planet, and I couldn't imagine a more wonderful activity than pulling a 25 pound bike trolley with a 34 pound kid and a 24 pound kid stowed safely inside.  So, on we rode.

My riding was becoming slightly more controlled and slightly less terrifying, but it was still frighteningly similar to that of a child whose training wheels had been removed just minutes earlier.  The good thing about my horrendous riding ability was that the intense concentration required to keep myself from wiping out distracted me from the incessant screaming and fighting occurring within the confines of the trolley.  I'm sure the fight was justified.  It most likely started as a heated debate about the best way to solve the state's budget crisis, and quickly came to be a petty argument of who was taking up more space, who was drinking out of the wrong sippy cup, and who was the REAL owner of the toys they are told to share on a daily basis.  Cole and I trudged on, determined to enjoy our bike ride.

With each block ridden, the weight of the trolley seamed to increase by another three to four pounds.  There was no way I was going to let on how miserable I was.  I just kept pedaling and pedaling and pedaling.......  Finally, my rear end began to ache.  This so called "fabulous" seat was terrible!  It was like sitting on a bed of nails.  I had never realized how bony my butt was.  How could I have made such a terrible selection?  Looking back, comfort wasn't on my list of necessities.  That was stupid on my part.  I should have know that it would be uncomfortable.   Most cute things are.  High heels, anyone?  For the next five to ten minutes I thought of ways to make the seat more comfortable.  Ultimately I decided the best solution was to "accidentally" forget the bike in the driveway right next to the trolley.

Cole was putting Lance Armstrong to shame and kept riding and riding.  I wasn't going to let Cole out do me so I just kept on riding and smiling and happily agreeing to every turn that took us farther from home.  This is when I began to wonder if Cole was taking "performance enhancing" drugs.  Were his legs powered by diesel engines?  Why were we still riding?  Eventually, the pain in my derriere was greatly overshadowed by the extreme fatigue in my legs.  By this point in the ride, pulling the trolley felt like pulling an elephant carcass filled with lead only not as smelly.  We had wound around town for about 45 minutes and were now in a residential area with a steep hill quickly approaching.  I began to imagine my obituary: "Danielle Anderson nee Zimmerman, adoring mother and loving wife, died today because she refused to admit that her husband could ride a bike longer than she could.  Even though she was 28 at the time of her death, Danielle still maintained that she was only in her mid-twenties, not late-twenties, and would like to be remembered as such."

I persevered, unwilling to admit defeat, until I came to a devastating halt half way up the hill.  I waved my white flag and climbed off my bike.  The blood rushed to my bony butt, and I felt like dancing a jig in celebration of the relief of pain in my rear.  I began pushing Lulu and the trolley up the hill.  Cole stopped.  "What are you doing?" he asked.  "I can't do it anymore.  I'm dying", I honestly admitted.  "Well let me ride it," he said.  "Take a break from pulling them."  I happily agreed to let Cole take over, and jumped on Cole's bike, sending my butt back into a throbbing hell.  Cole zipped up the hill and was quickly soaring down the other side with me hot on his tail.  The feeling of summer time freedom quickly overtook me once again.  The down slope of the hill seemed to stretch out for miles.  We were zooming through Anytown U.S.A. and loving every second of it.  I would have stretched my arms out to my sides and closed my eyes if I wasn't certain I would end up looking like Frankenstein's Monster from such a stunt.

Eventually, the hill did end and once again we found ourselves on flat ground, side by side.  That's when Cole let me in on a little secret.  "You had this in the WRONG gear," he told me.  "You should have had it on the lowest, not the highest.  No wonder you were miserable."  I couldn't believe it.  All of that suffering for nothing!  Why didn't I ever try to adjust the gears?  Well, probably because I couldn't safely do such a thing.  I would have been distracted from riding and probably would have ended up with a broken arm or something worse.  I had just had the most intense upper leg workout of my life, and it was for no good reason.  I expected to look in the mirror when we got home only to realize I now had Tina Turner's million dollar legs.  Unfortunately, that didn't happen.

The good news is, since finding out why riding my bike was so terrible, I have made the proper adjustments to my bike gears and now really enjoy riding my bike, trolley and all.  I never did "accidentally" forget the trolley or my bike in the driveway, and we are enjoying every single day of summer vacation.  We go on a bike ride, walk, or wagon ride everyday and then do it again when Cole gets home from work.  So far we have been to park district events, a root-beer factory, and a major league baseball game.  We have a trip to the pool, a musical, a zoo visit, a children's museum visit, and minor league baseball game all coming up soon.  Plus, our privacy fence is going in this month!  This is the first summer since 2007 that I haven't been pregnant or nursing so we have a lot of freedom that we haven't had before.  I'm certain this is going to be the best summer so far, as long as my bike doesn't get stuck in the wrong gear.