Waiting for the Storm

The weather gurus keep claiming that a gigantor storm is set to crash down upon us, and even Slater over on his blog claims that he is being battered by winds and rain. For three days I've been all prepared, covering all our outdoor furniture, laying in a stock of firewood, putting the new bikes under the new canopy, digging trenches and laying in sandbags—everything.

Currently it's sunny and very pleasant. There are some clouds over the Rim, but they seem very innocuous. I tell you, if we don't get some further weather, I may have to pull up stakes and go to someplace where they do have some.

Oh, wait—I want to do that anyway.

Speaking of bikes, those new conveyances aforementioned are the boys new Transformer bikes which came courtesy of the grandparents this Christmas. Sadly, they do not actually transform into small robots, or even powered exoskeletons which envelop the boys on command. I'm kind of disappointed about that, but otherwise they are great little bikes, save that the plastic "Transformer" parts come off at the drop of a hat (or when you crash, as Poncho discovered a few times). These are the first "big kid" bikes the boys have had, and even with training wheels the cycles give them a sense of power. My mom and I took them down to a park this week where it was (A) warmer and (B) flatter for them to test out. After some initial hiccups, they were doing great—so well, in fact, that they took me on an "adventure ride" around the entire perimeter of the park. Three times. Good exercise for all.

I know that teaching your kids to ride is kind of an iconic parent moment, and it proved so here, too, even though there wasn't much we had to show them; the training wheels kept them from needing to balance on any but the sharpest curves, and other than having to occasionally push a boy up a hill, they didn't really need us. Still, seeing them in their helmets and pads (Harley Davidson branded! Sweet!), riding high, brought home just how big they are getting. People who haven't seen them for some time (like the recently returned Parkers) comment on how they've grown, but since we see them every day, the change is incremental.

I know there's nothing new in these musings, but I suppose everyone must go through life's experiences for themselves before they become reality. I used to hate when parents said things like, "You can't understand until you have kids of your own," but there is some truth to it. Some events have to be lived to fully appreciate. And suddenly the idea that the boys will only be in the house for another decade or so (I've vowed to put them on the curb on their eighteenth birthday—just ask them), rather than seeming like lifetime, seems all too short a time.

Still, I'll be happy to stop stepping on Legos every blessed day...