Forte

A few minutes ago, I was sitting on my son's big wheel bike and thinking about life.


Let me explain.

He insisted I "try ride, Mama!" after I commented how fun that looks and how I wished I had a fast bike like that. He's just gotten the hang of pedaling and darts around at alarming speeds. I wasn't trying to say I was jealous and wanted a turn, but he's two and that's all he heard. I am way too big for his bike, and really had no desire to ride it, but he was trying to share and looked so pleased to be able to share with Mama.

So that's how I ended up on the bike. He pushed me around a few times then exclaimed, "OK, me turn!" When he actually starts using correct grammar I am really going to miss the baby talk. It's the only thing left of his babyhood. Sometimes I don't mind when he scrapes up a knee because that's the only time he wants me to hold him.

I was thinking that it was the best thing I did all day, accepting this offer to ride my son's bike. It is not the everyday tasks that make me happy at home, it is these moments with my kids. I know it's silly as hell, but I really enjoyed being pushed around the garage on the big wheel. Who cares if I looked completely ridiculous. Who cares if he tells Daddy later and I get laughed at. I know my husband would have ridden the bike, too.

Lately, considering going back to school and possibly working in a few years, I've really been looking at my children and I can't imagine not being with them constantly like I am. Sometimes it's frustrating to no end, yes, but they're also the best times I can recollect.

No, I'm not posting a picture of me on the big wheel. Sorry.