Yes, I'm a mean mom. I signed my kids up for the 36 mile Minneapolis Bike Tour again this year. I begged, bribed, and threatened to get them to do what ended up being only a handful of training rides, the longest being 15 miles (we turned back early because I couldn't take the whining any more). All along I'm thinking, What a gift I'm giving to my children! I'm giving them the fresh outdoor air, physical fitness, a sense of accomplishment, and hours of my time (albeit it time spent yelling and cajoling them to hurry up and stop crying when it feels too hard).
The Tour was this past Sunday. It was cold and wet. Awesome. Thankfully, I had also managed to convince a few others to join us, which was a godsend since Lisa had to work and I didn't know how I was going to manage the 4 kids on my own. The morning got off to a fabulous start when my friend Phil called to say that he and his two kids were already there and my family hadn't even left our house! We finally got the bikes loaded up and the raingear packed, and we made it almost on time. What I didn't realize was that "almost on time" was right at the end of the official start time. Our group was among the last to cross the starting line, and, of course, one of the slowest. That meant that we arrived at each of the break stations almost as they were closing them down. After the second station, at 17 miles, Carter wiped out due to the wet street and hurt his knee. I didn't see it; in fact I had to ride my bike back about 1/2 mile to find him, limping back to the station with the help of one of the course attendants. He was sore and crying, but I talked him into getting back on the bike. It really wasn't a very bad injury. But now we were at least a couple of miles behind the rest of our group and to make it even better, it started to pour rain. So here I am, riding with a wet crying child with a sore knee, knowing that we weren't even halfway through but had no choice but to finish. It was a lonely and depressing time. I tried to be a cheerleader, but it's really not my style. My style was one of, Well, there's no way out of this, so we might as well finish, and it's raining and we need to pick up the pace so let's go already!
We made it to the third stop just as Jalen and one of Phil's kids were leaving. Thankfully, my friends Karin and Dan took off after them so that the boys weren't without any adult supervision on the ride. Also thankfully, the rain stopped temporarily and Carter's attitude improved a bit. Now it was Claire's turn to melt down, and again I dealt with that by yelling at her to just hurry up so we could get out of the rain! We finished the ride about 4 hours after starting, much to the surprise of (the few) volunteers at the end. Yep, our 7 year old girls rode 36 miles. So there.
Am I glad we did it? Yes. Are the kids glad? I'm not so sure. They don't seem impressed with the distance they traveled, even after I've told them countless times how proud I am. The problem is, I like to push myself and I consider adversity a challenge that can (and should) be overcome, but my kids don't have the same mindset. Maybe it's their age, or maybe they just aren't cut out of the same cloth as I am. If I really think about it, I don't know what kind of person I was at age 7, or even at age 10. Would I have persevered for 36 miles on my own like I would now? Or is determination a trait I developed as I matured?
One lesson learned is that my kids will be who they are, in spite of my efforts.
Another lesson I learned is that my kids did come through in the end, and that is just awesome.
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