training wheels

I recently bought a bike. Much like motherhood, it did not come with training wheels.

I went biking with the kids in the trailer the other night, only my second ride in like ten years or something. And I chose to go all the way to 'the purple park'.

"Do you think we'll be able to make it all the way there mom?" Jaxon asked.
"I think we should try Jaxon, what do you think?" said I.
"Let's do this."

Right.

So, we set out, with me on the bike (duh!), the kids in the trailer, and fully stocked with snacks and waters.

Let's get serious. The purple park is about a mile and a half away from our house. It was a ten minute ride.

It's what happened along the way that was the real adventure. I kept checking to make sure the kids were still attached to the bike, and at the intersection right in front of the purple park, I did something I'm sure I'll never live down. Especially now that it's in my blog post.

I fell off my bike. Right in the middle of the intersection.

The kids were safe. No worries there.

But me? My pride and dignity were badly bruised. So was my leg. And my ankle. And my hands...

And I will not quickly forget the look on Jaxon's face, when he just stared in awe at me.
"Did you just fall off the bike mom?"

Yep.

And so, a moment of embarrassment and horror turned quickly into a life lesson for me.

There are no training wheels with motherhood.

Even though I made the untimely error of falling off my bike, on a beautiful day, with lots of people around to see, I still had to get back on that bike, pedal my way across the street ( I waited for the next light of course), and face the kids.

"Wow, Jaxon. That sure was embarrassing. Can you believe I just did that?"

It was as if, for the moment, Jaxon realized that I am not perfect. That I do make mistakes. That I'm not the most amazing and all-knowing mom that he thought I was.

In this crash course into motherhood, there are nights like tonight, when I slightly lost my temper trying to put the kids to bed because nobody wanted to listen to me; and there are days when the naps turn into extra play time and tired bodies; and there are mornings when all I really want to do is sleep in on a Sunday but I'm woken up at 6:32 am with a little boy grunting or snorting in my face...

 ...on these days and in these moments, I am reassured that my kids still love me, no matter what. No matter the mistakes I make, or the falls I take. No matter if I'm not perfect, don't always do the right thing and perhaps someday embarrass them more than myself. Somehow, we get back on the bike and keep pedaling...