goodfountain

We are counting down to vacation!

In just 3 short days we will embark on an 11ish-hour journey to a quiet island off the South Carolina coast. It’s our First Big Family Vacation. Last year we went to Texas for a few days to visit my husband’s brother and family, but we stayed at their house (although with their pool and golf course, it was kind of like being at a resort…).

Chee is beyond excited about her first trip to the beach. She has cried a few times over the last couple of weeks because she wants to go to Sow Key-row-lina Right Now. Everything Chee knows about the beach she learned from Caillou. Therefore, she wants to fly a kite. That is her main interest in the beach. Caillou flew a kite on the beach, therefore Chee is going to fly a kite. Must remember to pack the kite.

I’m excited because I will have adults around me. The whole time. Not just the short people. My husband reminds me that this is HIS vacation, too, and not a dump-the-kids-on-Daddy break for Mommy. What?! So just having help makes it a vacation for me? Woe is me.

Grandma and Grandpa will be there, too. They are willing to let the kids be dumped on them babysit so we can go out. Got to love the Grandparents. Oh, how lovely do I sound? Excited about my vacation because I will get a couple of breaks from my kids. At least I’m keeping it real here in bloggy land.

I admit I’m super excited about playing on the beach with them. Chee has been practicing building sand castles in our sandbox at home. This is accomplished by dumping water in said sandbox, therefore making it a mud box. Now if we could just get Ess to stop eating the sand…

Ess is excited about vacation because everyone else is excited. Mostly she is talking about getting to see Aunt K and Cousin M. They will be joining us too. I tell Ess that we’ll be going to South Carolina on Saturday and she says, That’s a good ideeeeaaa, Mommy.

Yes it is.

I am not anticipating any major Sensory challenges for Chee. There’s a pool where we’re staying so we’ll probably swim in the afternoons after spending the morning at the beach. A daily pool swim should take care of all her sensory needs. She’ll have Cousin M to play with and, as I’ve shared before, they get along very well and make good playmates. M is a good role model for Chee in terms of language.

When I come back I hope to have much good stuff to share! Stay tuned.

Not every day week is a good day week.

Perhaps it’s the post best birthday ever letdown.

Truthfully, it’s only been a bad three days, but three days of whining and crying feels like forever a week. I am not an amused mother anymore.

Monday and Tuesday were fine. Monday I was gone for 3 hours in the early afternoon so that probably contributed to why the day was fine for me. Tuesday we had a pool party with her preschool class. Of course that day was great - swimming pool, friends, a stop for ice cream. What’s to be unhappy about?

Wednesday is when things started going south. Her last tumbling class ended with her crying and unable to explain why. Later she told me cried because her sticker ripped. Her sticker!!! A sticker bringing on that level of tears was an ominous foreboding.

I wish I could remember the horrid travesties of the rest of the day, but my mind has mercifully blocked them from memory.

Much of Thursday and today was comprised of a lot of not listening to me. So deliberate in her ignoring my requests to stop bad behavior (like ripping open a box of food). This morning she cried when we went outside to play in the back yard. She just wanted me to hug her and she requested to go back inside. Fortunately Ess wasn’t having a great time outside either so she complied. Unless there’s a swimming pool or a sprinkler involved, my girls are not outside girls. We like air conditioning.

The echolalia today was rampant. There is nothing more frustrating than thinking I’m having a legitimate conversation with Chee only to find out that she’s playing the role of Caillou or, in particular today, Caillou’s friend Leo. I will go along with it for awhile, but then I am all echoed out. It made playing any number of games impossible. That’s the other thing. Let’s play [insert game here]! she says to me, only to wander off while I’m getting it down or about 15 seconds into it.

Her obsession with Baby Einstein DVDs is in full force too. Chee was just wild about Baby Einstein in her “younger” days. Once I became aware of the pragmatic aspect of her language delay, I realized that there is nothing conversational about Baby Einstein and I phased them out. I view Baby Einstein in such a new way now. Nothing particularly educational about them beyond vocabulary building. Entertaining, yes. One day they went to live with another family. She was fine with that and never asked for them. Somehow, though, she found them when we moved last year and I’ve let her watch them on occasion again. And now she wants to watch them over and over again. And over. I think it’s time they went to live elsewhere again. Permanently. (For kicks some time I’ll devote an entire post to the many and varied loves of Baby Einstein this house has seen.)

In the midst of all this whining and crying, Chee had two important appointments yesterday. Her 4 year check up with her pediatrician, and her quarterly physical therapy session. The 4 year checkup was fabulous. Chee let herself be examined, she answered all of the doctor’s questions, she was highly agreeable. This appointment was a thousand times better than her three year checkup where the doctor noted that she was totally echolalic and refused physical examination. Not too bad for one year later. There were a couple of shots, which did not go well, but that’s to be expected. Upon reviewing her chart, her pediatrician declared her to look like a typical THREE year old. Um, she’s four, I reminded the doctor. Yes, she said, but she looks like a three year old. (90th percentile for height and weight not withstanding.)

Then on to Physical Therapy where, again, she did quite fabulous. I mentioned to her PT what the pediatrician said about looking like a three year old and she agreed that developmentally Chee reminds her more a three year old than a four year old. And, I’m recalling, her speech therapist says that Chee’s language is that of an early 3 year old than an early four year old.

Hmmm, the wheels start turning in my brain. Could it be that behaviorally she’s more like a 3 year old than a 4 year old too?

Maybe.

She was so very adamant today about buttering her own corn on the cob. My husband didn’t let her and she ran from the room and threw herself down in a heap of tears in the next room. I told her to come back and she could butter her own corn and she was happy. From what I’m reading, the “do it myself” phase generally happens at three. But for a kid who is about a year behind developmentally, maybe that phase is happening now at four. I could give other examples, but this post is already too long.

What this means for me, as the frustrated Mom who lost her own temper a couple of times these past few days, is start treating her like a 3 year old. Forget thinking of her as special needs or sensory sensitive (although those things are still important), but just think of her as a really tall 3 year old. It really makes sense. Last summer, when she turned 3, we had some pretty horrible times. My husband and I used to say we were finally hitting the terrible twos. Now at age 4, it feels like a lot of expected 3 year old behavior is hitting us.

With the rate at which she’s been developing, I’m suspecting hoping praying that we will move through some of this with lightening speed and she can start being the charming girl that all four year olds are.

Yeah right. I hear uproarious laughter from the parents of four year old girls everywhere.

Don’t be fooled by my glib tone into thinking that I am not somewhat obsessively worrying about her being a year behind and wondering when the delay will be less obvious. Remember, I’m a worrier.

Meanwhile, I’m dusting off the special handbook the gods gave me for parenting a three year old and I’m going to adjust my expectations. Wish me luck. Wish us luck.

Or something like that.

I’m a bit inspired by Stimey over there and all her weekly camp thingies. While I won’t even pretend to have the fortitude to attempt different weekly themes, I do have it in me to have a little camp here of our own. I think. Handwriting.

It is now my mission to get Chee to write her name before schools starts up again. We have seven weeks.

I must give Chee credit where she deserves it. She can, indeed, write her name. Sometimes it’s legible, sometimes it’s not. Mostly not. Some of the letters are a mess. Her real name has 8 different letters so she’s at a bit of a disadvantage compared to those kids with the easy 3 and 4-letter names. You know who you are.

The real inspiration for this came at her birthday party. We had the kids decorate their own bags for carrying their stuffed animal home in and collecting their Pinata loot. All of the four year olds could write their own names. Quite well. The two 3 year olds were about on par with Chee. Then Monday at OT she practiced writing her name with her therapist and she did excellent on about the 3rd time. Practice, me thinks, may be the missing ingredient at home.

So how does one do handwriting camp?

I don’t know.

I’d like to give her blank sheets of paper and make her write it over and over again till she’s mastered it, however that would last about 37 seconds and then she’d ask for the scissors to cut the paper. Trust me. That’s what happened today.

On to Plan B.

What is Plan B?

Letter of the Day sounds good to me. I could get all fancy and call it Letter Isolation, but we like to keep things simple round these parts.

So tomorrow will be “C” day. Just practice writing that one letter as often as we can. If we can do it 3 times for 5 minutes, I will consider us wildly successful. We’ll mix things up. Spend some time at the dry erase board. Later at the chalk board. We’ll vary the writing instruments. It will be the most fun with the letter C that Chee has ever had.

In fact, I think I’m going to change it from Handwriting Camp to Letters Camp. Maybe throw in some thrilling activities like identifying items that start with the letter C from magazine pictures. Or writing lists of C words.

Let the good times begin.

Or so declared Chee Saturday afternoon as we put the final touches on the decorations and waited for her guests to arrive.

She turned four years old!

To celebrate, we had her first-ever “friend” birthday party. She’s been excited about this for over a month. A month!

As I’ve been noodling in my head just what to say about the party and about her turning four, my mind wanders as there’s so much to say.

I could report how perfectly comfortable and happy she was. I could share countless examples of how she fully engaged with her friends. There was the wild success of the Pinata and the stuff-your-own teddy bear. Our good fortune that Ess slept till after the Pinata bashing cannot be overlooked. My husband I declared the party a huge success. All our planning, re-planning and worrying paid off. The party kicked ass.

A memorable moment was Chee not crying during the singing of Happy Birthday and the subsequent clapping and cheering that seems to always follow. (Her family breathed a collective sigh of relief.) Another was when she took her favorite birthday present, a digital camera, and held it up to her Grandpa’s face and said, Here you go, you look through here, you say ’say cheese,’ and you press this blue button. Giving instructions! That was a first.

I could get all mushy and talk about how perfect she is and how much I love her, but I did lots of that to her face already and I don’t think it needs to be said anymore. We all know. It’s a given.

As she was getting ready for bed, I asked her what was her favorite part of the party. Was it the cake, or opening the presents or playing games, or something else?

She took a moment and said, My favorite part was seeing all my friends.

That, friends, was my favorite part of the whole day.

I’m rather enjoying this particular developmental spot that both my girls are in. Chee has recently had what one could call a conversation boom in her language. She’s very engaged with us, very communicative. But especially so with her sister. Ess is already quite the conversationalist. However, it’s a bit of an emerging skill with the both of them. Makes for some hilarious, if not repetitive, discussions.

Chee’s birthday is Sunday. She’s very excited. She invites nearly everyone she meets to her party, which is Saturday. She also asks them how old are you going to be on your next birthday? Most are caught off guard, but they usually answer. I know it’s not a polite question, but we’ll deal with that later. I’m just happy she’s talking to people!

Tonight we went to a party supply store to pick up a few more things for the main event. On the list was Party Hats. Chee is requesting that everybody wear hats at her party. We’ve invited six little friends over. Our first not-just-family party.

On the way there, our girls chatted.

Ess: I wan nuss, I wan nuss. (Code for I want to nurse.)
Chee: Nooooo, you can’t nurse, we’re going to Party City! Yay Party City!!

Ess: I wan go swimming!
Chee: Nooo, you can’t go swimming, we’re going to Party City! Yay Party City!!

Ess: I wan Mommy, I wan Mommy!!
Chee: No, you can’t ha… (pause) You can have Mommy, Chee (pause) I will go with Daddy!

While it’s not the most high level and robust of conversations, it was definitely back and forth. And back and forth. Chee is very good at answering most all of Ess’ questions. Which are many. What doing, Chee? Where Daddy, Chee? What doing, Chee? (What doing is the question of the week.)

I used to be afraid that Ess would surpass Chee in language development. Instead what I think she’s doing is speeding her along. She’s a good role model, believe it or not, even at 19 months. And while Ess, as the younger sibling, is constantly worried she’s going to miss out on some thing of grand importance, it is actually Chee who is doing as much, if not more, of the imitating between the two.

It seems we have been blessed with the perfect little sister for Chee.

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Epilogue to the short story

Our protagonist is using the potty at home, of her own volition, about half the time. Her Mommy has no idea why. Perhaps it is the Mommy’s strategy of just ignoring the pottying. A strategy born from a desire to withhold strong, strong feelings of rage that threatened to consume the Mommy’s entire being. Whatever the reason, the little girl seems to be tiring of peeing on the carpet because nobody seems to care anymore. And there’s a note on the fridge that says Mommy will buy more Popsicles when the little girl starts using the potty again. She reads that every day. And everyday Mommy says, Maybe today will be the day that we can buy those Popsicles.

So far, they’re still waiting.

But every day they seem to be a little closer.

Maybe tomorrow.

One of the diagnostic criteria for children with Autism Spectrum Disorder has to do with pretending, make-believe play. The exact wording is: lack of varied, spontaneous make-believe play or social imitative play appropriate to developmental level.

Chee has been delayed but not lacking entirely in this skill. Because she is my first child, and because I didn’t have much of a network of friends with same-age kids when she was younger, I didn’t realize she was lacking in this area. I can remember seeing on various Milestone Charts something about pretending. Does your child engage in pretend play, e.g., using a banana as a phone? When I read that the first time I remember thinking, yes, I’ve seen her do that; so, sure, she has pretend play.

Prior to age two, though, I can recall she had zero interest in baby dolls. She didn’t mother them, pretend to feed them or put them to bed. Nothing. When she was very young her favorite things were books, wooden blocks, Mega Blocks, listening to music, and banging on toys with buttons that made noise when pressed. So great was her love for pressing noise-making buttons over and over again, that by the time she was age 18 months I had permanently rotated out nearly every single lights-and-sounds toy she had. That Christmas I requested only battery-free toys for her. The silence was heavenly.

Shortly after she was two, she had her first speech evaluation. The speech therapist handed her a baby doll and a bottle and, I can’t remember exactly, but I’m pretty sure Chee just discarded them. (Of course, I told myself that Chee herself had rarely ever drank from a bottle so how could she possibly know what to do with one.) The therapist then took the doll and pretended to feed her from the bottle. She handed them back to Chee who also did the same thing, including imitating the “Mmmm, mmmm” sounds.

There were a couple more instances during the evaluation that the SLP demonstrated some sort of playing to Chee and Chee immediately imitated her, whereas minutes before she had seemed lost or uninterested.

That was one of those lightbulb moments for me.

You mean I’m supposed to TEACH my child how to PLAY?!?!

Well, yeah, kinda. If they aren’t doing it on their own that is. I can remember feeling just horrible. What kind of mother am I, I thought, that I didn’t show my daughter what to do with a baby doll? Oh, I beat myself up something fierce for this. I convinced myself that I had not been playing with Chee enough. Clearly it was all my fault. Everything under the sun was my fault, or so it felt at the time.

She had just had her 2nd birthday from which she had amassed a veritable village of Little People. Thus dawned a new era of playing with Chee. Teaching her how to pretend. We had a castle and a boat, there were horses and dogs and Little Persons of every race, gender and occupation.

Initially, most of the pretending was done by me or my husband. We kept things pretty simple. I can remember setting up obstacle courses for the People, running them in races, and having them sit down to dinner. At that point in time, Chee had no reciprocal communication, so it followed suit that the People had no conversation as well. But there was much Hooray-ing and pointing out objects of interest.

Most of her pretend play echoed what she had seen/heard one of us do in play. If I took the People on a bus ride around the zoo, I’d later hear her taking them on the same bus ride. Everything would be just as I had done it, including using my exact same words.

I can remember the day, it was just about a year ago exactly, that she repurposed the Little People castle into Target. All on her own (neither of her parents had ever made the castle anything but the castle), she took her People shopping to “Target” where they bought “stuff.”

The pretending continued. She expanded into her play kitchen, whipping up food for breakfast and lunch. She began to take care of one of her baby dolls, including putting it to bed with her at night, complete with tucking her in and giving her a kiss. Into the mix she added Princesses and Barbies and a few stuffed animals. She was on her way.

Chee’s pretend play is now expanding to a whole new level. It’s exciting to watch it unfold. To watch her unfold.

I’ve mentioned recently that her favorite game to play is “restaurant.” She has become very elaborate. We frequent a gourmet pizza place near our house. While waiting to be seated, you can watch the “pizza man” toss the dough in the air and roll it out. All of that is incorporated into our game. Much of the play has been led by me. I’ve pretended to be a waitress and take her order. I’ve been the customer and coached her into taking my order. She does very well with it, and each time we play the pretending goes longer and longer. It helps that we have this pizza game to play with.

Then there was yesterday. Yesterday was altogether new.

I walked into her bedroom after bath and jammies and she said, Hi Miss Teacher, I’m your student! I went with it and for the next 5-10 minutes we had Circle Time with a story (picked by Chee, read by me). Then it was time to ride the bus home and her Daddy became the bus driver and I changed back to Mommy and greeted her when she got off the bus. She told me just what she did at school and that she had so much fun on the bus with Mr. Bus Driver.

Her language was incredible! My husband and I repeatedly exchanged shocked expressions at just how engaged she was, how creative she was. It was amazing.

I caught myself thinking, Wow, I think she’s gonna be okay.

She’s learning. She’s growing. She’s developing.

There’s no pretending that.

Once upon a time there was a little girl who was very blessed. She had a two loving parents, an adorable sister and a neurotic cat. In addition to the many toys, books and games she could play with during the day, her Mommy also often took her swimming, to a playground and (her favorite) shopping!! The little girl had a very nice life.

Although the toys were very entertaining, and although she adored reading books, sometimes there were other things that she found very funny. Simpler things. Like opening and closing the DVD drive on her Mommy’s laptop. Knocking things off the counter and hearing them crash loud on the floor was terribly funny too.

But there was one thing that had really captivated this little girl for some time. It was something that she didn’t see too often, but whenever she did she wanted to grab hold and do it too. What was this thing? A spray bottle. Oh how she loved it when Mommy got out the spray bottle and sprayed something wet and then would scrub scrub scrub. Sometimes the girl would make a lunge for the spray bottle, but her Mommy usually told her, “No,” that the spray bottle was not hers to play with.

Soon the little girl in our story longed to see the spray bottle and watch her Mommy spray spray spray. She thought to herself, How can I get Mommy to get that spray bottle out again? I love it so much. Then she remembered that Mommy almost always used the spray bottle after the little girl had a pee accident on the carpet.

I know! I’ll just pee on the carpet, and then Mommy will HAVE to get out that spray bottle! And with this thought she cheerfully ran into the family room and made a mess.

Mommy was not happy with the little girl but, as expected, she got out the spray bottle and cleaned up the pee. The little girl laughed and laughed at the spraying. She tried to grab the spray bottle, but her Mommy told her, “No,” and that she wasn’t very happy with her.

Still wanting to see that spray bottle, the little girl had another accident later that day. And another. And another. One time she had the accident when Mommy wasn’t in the room.

Hmmm, I better let her know, the little girl thought to herself. She ran to find Mommy and told her, “Mommy, can you get out the spray bottle and clean up the mess?” Her Mommy did not react very happily to the little girl’s demand, but she did just as she was asked. This made the girl so happy, but still Mommy would not let her have the spray bottle.

The next day, when the little girl woke up in the morning the first thing she thought of was the spray bottle. And so she ran downstairs, took off her nighttime Pull-up and peed on the carpet. Sure enough, out came the spray bottle.

The Mommy was not happy. She asked the little girl, “Why do you keep peeing on the carpet?”

Sometimes it was hard for the little girl to find her words. She wanted to tell her Mommy that SHE wanted to use the spray bottle, but she was just so excited she couldn’t get the words out.

So she kept peeing on the carpet, kept lunging for the bottle and hoped it would work. It did not. Finally, at the end of the day, after being told yet again that she could not have the spray bottle, the little girl cried out, “But I want to spraaaaayyyy!!!”

“Okay,” said her Mommy, who is very wise. “I will get you your very own spray bottle. You can spray it on the plants, in the bathtub, in the sink, and outside. But that is it. Then will you stop peeing on the carpet?”

“Yes,” said the girl.

That night she got her own spray bottle. It was fun to spray. The little girl sprayed many things.

And the next day she used the potty all day. It was a great day.

And then the next day, she decided to start peeing on the carpet again. She was bored with her own spray bottle. She wanted the gray one that Mommy uses. It’s so much more fun, the little girl thinks to herself. However, the Mommy stopped using that spray bottle. Now she just uses soapy water and a towel, which isn’t nearly as interesting as the spray bottle.

Well, the little girl says to herself, I will just keep peeing on the carpet, and maybe she’ll get that spray bottle back out.

And so our story has no ending.

Just a cry for help from the Mommy who is no longer wise.

I think my husband and I are like many of the parents of today’s young children. We think. A lot. We don’t make decisions lightly, and we try our best to do the absolute best for our kids.

From ridding our diets of high fructose corn syrup and only choosing whole grain foods when possible, to limiting (or denying altogether) access to television, to seeking out a balance of well-rounded activities for optimal development - we take our job as parents seriously. To raise healthy, happy children to become healthy, happy adults. Of course there’s an abundance of love and laughter thrown in there. It’s a job raising kids, but it’s a darn fun one.

There was one decision that we especially did not take lightly. The Education of Chee. Last year, before realizing the full scope of Chee’s developmental delays, we decided on a Montessori education. It’s what felt right for our daughter. We looked at a half-dozen schools, talked with several teachers and school administrators, compared and contrasted against other preschools in the area. And with great hope, Chee began preschool last fall at a nearby Montessori preschool.

As I’ve written before, that did not work out. At all. Probably a combination of Chee’s delays (which give her the appearance of being about a year behind) and her Sensory Processing Disorder led to a very frustrating month for her (and her teachers). Resulting, ultimately, in us deciding to pull her out and seek the resources of the public school system. Just like that - bam - we took her out, and the next thing you know she’s in special education preschool. It almost left my head spinning how fast it all happened. There was little research. Just evaluations, interviews and a home visit, the next thing you know we have an IEP and two months after quitting the Montessori preschool, Chee was in a new school.

Even though Chee did very well in her classroom this past year, I can’t help but feel a bit of sadness that the Montessori classroom didn’t work for her. Mostly though I have made peace with it and accept that the special education classroom is where she belongs for now. Mostly.

And then someone makes a random comment, several times, and suddenly we are questioning our path.

Chee’s SLP has suggested, on more than one occasion, that Chee would thrive in a Montessori classroom. That with her learning style and her strong reading abilities, she will excel in that classroom. Suddenly I’m back to my wishful thinking about providing a Montessori education.

My husband and I spent the better part of the last few days, as we have done a time or two already, reevaluating the course we’re on. Should we enroll her in a Montessori preschool in the afternoons? Special needs public preschool in the morning where she has an IEP and the appropriate, necessary therapies and supports, followed by three additional hours of all that is magical about lovely about a Montessori education?

It’s tempting. Really tempting.

The internal debate comes with not knowing Chee’s capabilities. Not knowing how she’s going to do in school - Kindergarten and beyond.

Will she always need supports?

Or will she move past this, develop typical language and social skills and excel in the classroom?

Or will she find a regular classroom frustrating because she’s not challenged?

Would she truly thrive in a Montessori classroom?

Would that be a more suitable environment than where she’s returning this fall?

How does a parent know? How do we, Chee’s parents know what is the right thing to do.

It comes down to this: We don’t know. All we can do is listen to our trusted intuition.

Mine is telling me that Chee does not need to be in school for six hours a day. Three hours in the morning, a lunch break, and three hours in the afternoon. Perhaps it’s not Chee that does not need it, but maybe it’s her Mom who isn’t ready for her to be away from home that much. Either way, it’s what I’m hearing from myself.

There is always the option of choosing Montessori as her primary preschool and then using the resources the school district provides for speech and OT but, if I’m listening to my gut, withdrawing her from special ed preschool is definitely not the right choice. We have a good thing going there and I’m not messing with it.

And here we are, a few conversations later, back to our original plan. This is one of those times that we make our decision based on who Chee is today, and not who she might be in three or four years. It’s tough. Occasional nagging ‘what-if’ thoughts poke at me.

I have two young children, though, and my life is going to be full of nagging ‘what-ifs.’ For many years to come. It’s something I better get used to.

Tonight is a night I wish I had taken my camera along with me. How I would love to have captured the look of sheer joy on both my daughters’ faces.

What were they doing? Riding their “bikes.” I have to quote bikes because neither child was actually on a bike. Chee is riding a big wheel that we bought Ess last week that she is too little for. Chee stole it. Immediately. Behind our back she put the Barbie stickers all over it (in no orderly fashion mind you) that we were going to leave off (does everything have to be branded?).

As with most of her other gross motor skills, Chee came late to the party with pedaling. Add that to the fact that she is terrified extremely uncomfortable playing in our cul-de-sac (read: very quiet, very safe), there isn’t a lot of riding happening in our little corner. And don’t forget that in order to get to the street you have to be near the driveway, which is near the evil evil garage, and well, again, no riding ’round here.

Last week we became determined that it was time to get out there and get pedaling. Pedaling is good heavy work and would be an welcome addition to our revolving Sensory Diet. And, hey, it’s fun too. So my husband bought a too-big big wheel for Ess and was going to have Chee ride her Radio Flyer Tricycle. All for naught because Chee flat-out refuses to play in the front of the house.

No, how about we ride in the backyard? I’ll just ride my bike in the back.

Our deck and patio just don’t work for any kind of riding. Then we remembered the walking path around the lake at the County Park a short five-minute drive away. We walk the path often and usually see families pedaling around the lake on their bikes as well.

Chee took the big wheel and Ess had a Winnie the Pooh ride-on toy (no pedals, she just used her feet).

And they had a blast. About 2 minutes onto the path and we began a slight descent. Ess kicked up her feet and just let herself ride down the hill as fast as Pooh and friends would take her, a smile plastered wide across her face.

Chee, after discovering the magic of steering to prevent falling, took off, pedaling her legs so fast I had to jog to keep up with her. She loved every minute of it. And she crashed good and hard at bedtime.

There is something magical seeing children blissfully happy, experiencing something brand new. Today was a good day being a Mom.