Growing up, I was what we refer to in the biz as an “indoor kid.” I sat on a bench with my nose in a Judy Blume book while other girls played jump rope, cowered in fear anytime someone threw a ball in my direction, and had a mysterious, relentless stomachache during a good 10 years of P.E. periods. I cannot swim. I cannot throw. Other than a short stint in graduate school, which ended in a physical therapist working me up and then exclaiming “wow, it’s almost as if your body is fighting exercise,” I cannot run. But, thank the stars, when I was eight-years-old, my babysitter Chris, our psuedo-masculine stand-in for our father, who taught us how to crush a crossword puzzle but wouldn’t be caught dead at a professional sporting event, taught me how to ride a bicycle.
My kids where as they say “on one” at dinner last night and so I went to the bathroom to have myself a cry (as you do) and I’m realizing after reading this that what I should have done was cry on my back porch. I’m also going to be referring to my time spent crying on the back porch as “going for a change of air” instead of “getting away from you people!” I’ll let you know if that does anything to shift the dinner time battle strategy at all.
"I was there, under the clouds, in the street, passing by the cute dude giving me a little “sup” nod that I chose to interpret as “damn girl, how do you look so good with a helmet on???!!” and not “lady don’t you know that people can see your underwear when you bike in a dress??!”" Ha - yes! I totally relate to this. I also enjoy NYT Magazine's Letters of Recommendation big time. As always, love your posts.
This is perfection. Thank you for so honestly and humorously reminding me of what is and is not in my control and all the complexities of parenting. Thank you!
My kids where as they say “on one” at dinner last night and so I went to the bathroom to have myself a cry (as you do) and I’m realizing after reading this that what I should have done was cry on my back porch. I’m also going to be referring to my time spent crying on the back porch as “going for a change of air” instead of “getting away from you people!” I’ll let you know if that does anything to shift the dinner time battle strategy at all.
Laughed out loud several times. Also Ebike (with cargo) on our “to buy one day” magic list.
"I was there, under the clouds, in the street, passing by the cute dude giving me a little “sup” nod that I chose to interpret as “damn girl, how do you look so good with a helmet on???!!” and not “lady don’t you know that people can see your underwear when you bike in a dress??!”" Ha - yes! I totally relate to this. I also enjoy NYT Magazine's Letters of Recommendation big time. As always, love your posts.
This is perfection. Thank you for so honestly and humorously reminding me of what is and is not in my control and all the complexities of parenting. Thank you!