Yesterday I rode a bike in what seems like forever. It is has been sitting against the wall, a new baby carrier perched on the back, but for whatever reason, I have felt a little anxious about riding it. Pregnancy, altitude, baby too heavy have all moved through my mind when I have thought of going for a ride.
Yesterday Sterling climbed himself into the seat and sat there. I went over to explain to him Mommy couldn’t take him and Daddy was gone. He just looked at me calmly and patted the seat, communicating for me to get on. I again said no, he again patted the seat. This went on for awhile until finally I pushed past my anxiety out of a desire to experience what was obviously really important to Sterling. As the saying goes, the risk of remaining tight in the bud outweighed the risk of blooming.
And before I knew it, the wind was in my hair and I was transported back to the carefree days of my childhood. Russian Sage and wildflowers that overgrew the sidewalk brushed my legs, my heart skipped beats as I went over various bumps and cracks. There was the exhilaration of flying downhill, and the exhaustion of climbing back up. And all the while my little one was quite as a mouse, taking in all that passed him by. And I silently thanked him for not giving up.