Ramblings from a Slightly Deranged But Serene Mind

So, yesterday we went on a family bike ride. 

Notice how easily I mention that.  It was several years in the making, that ride.

The big O.co had a bike sale, so we all have them, now.  Mine is sleek and sassy.  I chose to remain unpregnant for one more day, thank you very much, to thus be fully capable of riding. 

We hooked the bike trailer up to Mr. Cool;
  Little K and the Caboose rode there.

HP and Little P rode with the bike tow bar.

How cool is that?

Then, all of us rode off into the sunset, because it took a couple of hours to get shoes on, tires pumped, hardware attached, helmets located, and the LYD secured.  (Little Yippy Dog--why hasn't she made an appearance here, yet?  Hmmm...)
 

It was surprisingly satisfying for me to watch the whole tribe riding along.  How much more time do we all have together like this before the little birds fly away?  (And how do we keep them from pecking me and each other to death before they go?) 

Later that night, as I rocked the Caboose, I reflected again about the magic of motherhood.  How well it's possible to know and love someone so small.  How just-right they feel in your arms--like a longing satisfied.  I though of parents who lose their little ones and the unimaginably intense pain they must feel.

Today I blissfully cooked dinner and watched half the children in the neighborhood slide down the stairs on the couch cusion. 

Caboose was getting more and more agitated that they wouldn't let her ride, too.  (I'm a mean mom, and I have to draw the line somewhere.  How would explain THAT on the 10:00 news?  "I thought she'd be OK.  The cushion is pretty soft, and she's a tough kid.  NO.) 

She needed a bottle and a nap, but I kept putting her off so that I could complete the task at hand.  Finally she stopped crying and found something to do downstairs.  A few minutes later Little K said, "Oh, the baby's asleep"  and I freaked out.  The thought came to my mind, what if she wasn't asleep, but had choked on something! 

Hey, I'm a mom, I worry needlessly a lot.  That and unnecessary guilt are my specialty.  Anyway, I ran down the stairs to find her, like Little K said, asleep.  (Whew.  Duh.)


I picked Caboose up and tried to put her to bed, but she awoke and reached into her mouth to present me with the MARBLE she had been sucking on.  (Insert Oh my "h" word under my breath here.)



I'm so thankful that she is still alive!  Angels surely watch over us.