Today I had a play date with Emme, Cailey, and their 7 year old friend who lives down the street. Just us gals. The three younger ones tore down the street on their bikes, while I ran staggered tried to keep up. Thankfully, when we arrived at the cul de sac, I could collapse sit on the sidewalk, take a breather, and attempt to listen in on the animated conversation of the prepubescent set concerning matters only directly affecting 7 year old girls.
Fascinating.
Like how gross boys can be. Like I didn’t know this already.
The Friend thinks my girls are awfully fortunate that they’re homeschooled, because in public school, the bathrooms are so dirty, she shares wrinkling her nose. (She’s obviously never been privy to the interior of my children’s bathroom by, say, Friday.) AND did you know that once a boy actually peed in the bathroom sink at school. After all the appropriate “eewwws”, and “GROSS ME OUT”, I wondered, how did she come across this information? But I didn’t ask.
I was quickly becoming part of this little clique. You know, being included in the conversation and all, from the safety of the sidewalk, when all of a sudden, The Friend asked me if I wanted to ride her bike. My 7 year old daughter said, loudly, “NO WAY, MY MOM’S IN HER 40’S.” The Friend’s jaw drops and she turns to look at me in shock. “Oh wow!”
I’ve written extensively how I haven’t ridden a bike since well before I had children, and about the unfortunate encounter with that mailbox that leaped in my way and all. And about how there’s not enough insurance in the state to warrant my getting on anything with two wheels and a seat that is a quarter of the size of my derriere. But people, the gauntlet was clearly thrown down. That was a double dog dare if ever I’d heard one.
With six wide eyes staring at me (and possibly more if the neighbors were peeking through their blinds), and with the wind in my hair, and bugs in my teeth, I rode The Friend’s bike. Then I rode my 7 year old’s bike. And just because I felt like showing off, I rode my 5 year old’s bike. The one with the training wheels. And while I was feeling spunky, I also played a rousing game of tag with The Girls. Thankfully, The Friend’s dad called her to come in. He could be more than a little concerned regarding his daughter’s choice of playmates.
As I type this from traction, I know that I’m the oldest young mom in the neighborhood. And after today, in my daughter’s eyes, I’m definitely the coolest.
{ 19 comments }
Sounds like you had a great, fun playdate…. Just don’t hurt yourself! ha
You are too funny. So it was you I saw when I saw and adult on a childs bike whiz by =)) hehehe…
You are so funny. This really made me laugh this morning. I substituted Missionettes at my church last Tues night for the 3-5 graders. One girl told me I didn’t know what they were talking about because I was a teen from the 80′s. I told her, no the 90′s I am only 31. They all looked at me and one girl said WOW! Your older than my mom, she’s only 29! As if 29 is old.
What a good mama. I would have just sat there and looked at the girl like she was crazy. Me? Exercise? On a bike? In broad daylight? Huh-uh.
You little dare devil! I know you had fun. If nothing else proving to yourself you still got it!
LOL – I hope I get the chance some day to be that cool in my kids’ eyes! LOL
This is the first time I’ve seen your blog. I just wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed your stories. Also, your writing style is excellent. Keep up the great work.
You are like SO the coolest mom! Totally! I tried to ride one of my sons toys and he said, “Mom…yer breakin’ it.”
I bow to you, my friend! I am afraid that I would hurt something if I tried that! Good job! Blessings!
Jules,
I should have mentioned that at the point I was riding Emme’s bike, she was running along side me yelling “be careful Mom!” I’d like to think that it was out of concern for me, but I think she was more concerned for her bike.
But I tell ya’ gals, I’m really thinking of getting myself a bike! But, one with a bigger seat.
Welllll, now that you mention it….
Two years ago, my husband bought me a really nice “hybrid” bike (part mountain bike/part touring bike, but no electric feature like the Prius) for my birthday. I call it my Mom Bike because of the enormous seat (with springs) and the shock absorbers on the wheels (this thing rides smoooooth, let me tell you, like buttuh). Well, one time I rode down to a summer festival on it with one of my daughters. We stopped next to the elephant ear stand and a young guy standing in line said, “Hey, nice bike!”
“Thanks! I call it my Mom Bike,” I said right away, because I wanted to concede that it wasn’t a super-studly mountain bike.
Pause. “I, uh,” he began, “bought one just like it last week.”
“Oh. Uh. Well, I just call it that because I’m a mom and I’m riding it, not because of the bike.” (Good recovery, eh?)
He nodded.
“I love the cushy seat,” I said. I should learn to shut up.
But I highly recommend it to any mom who wants a wide, cushy seat and lots of shock absorption. It’s a Trek.
Yey!! That is so great! I did a cartwheel a couple of weeks ago. My kids were sufficiently impressed, LOL. As I close in on 40 this year I am seriously wanting to get a bike. Just because.
You *are* the coolest!
You ARE the coolest mom EVER!!!! Just the fact you survived riding those little bikes with the tiny little seats and pedals – very impressive.
Bikes are cool, but I would say to SIT ON IT FOR A WHILE to see if the thing pokes your butt to death first. I got a free street bike from a church buddy and it has the narrowest little seat that it is almost as tiny as thong underwear. I bet you are right if you can guess how much I have been riding!!! Not at all.
YOU GO GIRL!!!
This made me laugh out loud…and reminded me of an experience I had with my then 12 or 13 year old niece. Her girl scout troupe was going to a “climbing gym” and needed another chaperone. I was asked to go…and I (jokingly) said, “Well only if I can climb.” My neice held me to this comment thrown out in jest and I found myself 20 feet in the air climbing the walls with a bunch of little preteens and teens watching me with mouths agape. As I was reaching for a handhold I heard the following conversation below me:
A child I didn’t know: “Who *is* that?”
My niece: “That’s my aunt.”
A child I didn’t know: “How old is she?”
My niece: “I don’t know. Really old, I think. But she’s younger than my mom.” (please note I was just 40 years old at the time).
A child I didn’t know: “Wow. She’s your aunt?”
My niece: “Yah. She’s the *cool* aunt.”
I glowed! LOL!
FUNNY!!! I’m sure you didn’t pay for it at all later, huh?
Too cool! Go you! I love those “cool mom” moments.
My mom did that sort of stuff with us when we were kids and it’s part of what made her such a great mom. Although I do remember one time when she flipped her bike somehow and ended up in the middle of the street on her back with her skirt embarrassingly high on her leg. That wasn’t all that cool.
Hey, if you move to my neighborhood you could be the coolest yet not the oldest!
What a great story! My daughter had a friend over to spend the night earlier this month. We go to church with this family and they are some of our dearest friends. The mom was still here hanging out with us, too, up in the girls’ room. Something came up about cartwheels, and then round-offs, and then my girls asked if I could still do one. Somehow my 40-year-old body ended up doing gymnastics with the girls (at least I remembered to tuck my shirt into my pants so I didn’t scare them with my stretch marks), and I must say I was better than the girls! Isn’t it great to get to hang with the kids?
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