There is something infinitely satisfying about teaching a kid how to ride a bicycle. Right around Christmas, on a chilly, dreary, but dry day, we got Margaret off her balance bike and onto a big girl one. Her smile radiated across her face after she realized what she had done with a push and a cheer from her Mom.
The progression to the pure cold and snow of winter, then the driving rain of spring kept her off her bike for a couple months. But when the sun came out again she progressed from wobbly and insecure, with stops and starts and pushes along the way, to fearless, fast, and free. Her newfound ability gave her wings, the chance to see the neighborhood at a new altitude, reach new speeds, and bob and weave as Bobby's ferocious follower.
Her little pink bike graduated from a favorite toy to her most respected form of transportation this summer. Every time we go to the pool, I watch her still soft little legs peddle up and down, up and down. Her four-year-old-ness so round, loveable, and squeezable. It's one of my favorite images of this summer - one I haven't been able capture on camera, because she keeps going faster and faster, just like life.
For many reasons this summer isn't like any other. There is a fleeing, fleeting nature to it. And I'm clued in, locked in on trying to slow irretrievable velocity.
Within this idyllic midwestern summer landscape, my kids have plumped my heart with pride over the past several months. While the kids biking, tic tac toe, three in a row, Bobby leading the way, to the pool each day, is the blissful image I will always associate with this summer, there are so many more. Ones that I actually caught on camera.
At the beginning, it was Bobby and Margaret finishing up their soccer season, then Bobby playing coach pitch baseball, dressed in his white sox uniform, swinging away and aiming for the street.
Margaret was sharp and on beat in her dance recital, stealing the show with her unmasked smile.
The twins, gained comfort in the baby pool, then received yellow floaties on a late July Amazon shipment. They have been loving life in full float in the big pool.
And there was all the rest of the swimming. God I was proud of the kids doing the swim team this year. Their matching team suits. Their early morning dedication to all four strokes and countless laps. Their competitive spirit and their desire to root for each other. I learned how to be a timer. I hugged their wet little bodies when they came out of the pool after their races. I released my anxiety about how much time we were spending at swim meets and instead soaked it up.
They didn't make conference though. That was a big deal. As awesome as they were in my mind, they were not as good as the junior Olympic contenders and kids that were allegedly still 10, but looked closer to 18, in their division. Bobby took it well - he didn't really care. But I had to coach Mary through the rejection. I told her to stick with it. That she had only been swimming for a year. In comparison, these other kids had been swimming since they were 5 or 6. That she was the youngest in her division. That she was smaller than the kid that was 5'10. I told her they would surely burn out by 13 or 14. So stick with it. You got it. You'll beat 'em then! It's about the long game - endurance. For a big thinker like Mary, this made sense, despite my lackluster parenting skills.
Swimming wasn't enough to fill their days, so they played a lot of tennis too. Their hair and neon shirts drenched with sweat as the midday sun beat down on them. There was a time they couldn't find their tennis shoes. Left in a car, or under their bed, or buried in a Lego bin. Eva gave them their sandals and socks to wear instead. They were called out as suspect, but still played - likely a little slower and sandier than previous attempts, but they got my moneys worth. They made progress and Peter and I paired up with them for the parent / child tournament. There were legit rallies and points and pride as I saw I didn't have to cover the whole court for my partner. My vision of actually being able to play with them one day coming a little more into focus.
Fourth of July at the Club was one of those perfectly joyous evenings where you can imagine how much fun you could be having if you didn't have twins running in opposite directions, getting too hungry, then too tired to stay up and play, party, and partake in the fireworks. I left that party more exhausted than exhilarated, but the rest of the people there looked like they were loving every second.
Let me just stay on those babies. Well not babies anymore, toddlers and almost two year-olds. Such a cute age. They have been in speech therapy since the spring because their twindom has prompted a delay in their words. While I was skeptical about the whole thing, I've come to the conclusion that it's working. They've made gains; going from saying nothing or not much at all to meaningful core words and more, even piecing together two and three words here and there. Right now their favorite word, in keeping with the majority share of activities this summer, is pool. Go pool. Go pool. Go outside pool. Ms. Trish the speech therapist is so pleased.
There are mere weeks left though. All this summer sweetness is going to come crashing to a close. All those people telling me it goes by too fast will be right. Spot on. As the zip away, I want the three older ones to peddle backward so I can see them bike those blocks to the pool one more time.
I'm not going to share the next step and talk about the move right now. It's too much, and I need to save the emotion for another blog entry on another day too close to now. For now, I'm still focused on the beauty of here and now, and on Margaret's legs peddling up and down, up and down, bobbing her head to the soundtrack of our summer.
Lo.
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