How many hours till bedtime???
Aaron is in Minneapolis listening to Governor Pawlenty wax eloquently at a Heritage Foundation event. I am here with four freshly bathed children who are on the slow journey to bedtime.
It's usually my goal to completely exhaust my children throughout the day when Aaron is gone so they'll go to bed without any cries of outrage, but it never quite seems to work. But one boy will sleep hard - this sunny boy we call Jonny.
JR just learned to ride without training wheels and still struggles to really get going on his own. His bike being the smallest, he has to spin his legs like crazy to keep up with the rest of us. But I always stay back, ride next to him, and try to encourage him as he learns.
Tonight I didn't think he'd make it. I'd ambitiously thought we'd go all the way to Dairy Queen which is a long haul, but knew we had plenty of time. J. did great on the way there, but on the way back, after the sugar spike, he just melted like a slushie left on a hot sidewalk.
"I CAN'T DO IT!!!!!" he yelled, he whined, he exclaimed. We stopped.
"Jonathan, you just have to keep pedaling. We can't keep stopping or we'll never get home."
He would take a deep breath, pout hugely for effect, and pedal. And pedal. Aaaaand stop.
"I'M TOO HOT!!!! MY KNEES HURT!!!!" Now he's just plain mad.
"See the trees up ahead? That's where the shade is!! It's cooler there and you CAN. DO. IT."
Somehow, we finally made it home. And I was reminded how often I whine to my dear Father (usually around this time at night, actually) I cannot do this. You were crazy to give me 4 children. They will never become more than barbarians.
And he tells me, Just keep pedaling, Jeannie, just keep pedaling.