each fall in boulder, there is at least one wednesday morning when you are supposed to bike your children to school. i live on 7th between the “c” and “d” streets and school is on the “h” street and 9th… so really, school is only six blocks away. that may not seem like a lot (especially since we lived in amsterdam for nearly six years and i biked everywhere), but you have to take into consideration the hills and the severe altitude we have to deal with here in our mountain town. when i was married, i always pushed the “bike to school” responsibility onto my husband. when we got divorced and our parenting plan was set, giving me the kids every wednesday, i considered asking for a special stipulation exempting me from those particular wednesday mornings. but we had enough to sort out and i kept my mouth shut.

so that first bike to school day after the divorce, lucy was in first grade and theo was in fifth. in fifth grade you start band and theo had to bring his trumpet to school on mondays and wednesdays… of course. i got up early that day and pulled their bikes out of the shed. we set off with lots of extra time as lucy wasn’t the strongest rider. the plan was for both kids to pedal and for me to slowly follow along behind with the trumpet and the back packs in the car. we got around the first corner and theo’s bike chain came off. and then lucy rode right into a stop sign and cracked her head. i was right behind her and the sign was so big and RED and i couldn’t imagine that she wouldn’t see it, but somehow it eluded her.

so theo was swearing like a sailor and lu was sobbing. i pulled over and tried (unsuccessfully) to get theo’s chain back on. i DID manage to get my hands covered in grease that i accidentally smeared on lucy while trying to get her to stop crying. somehow we walked the bikes around one more corner to their dad’s house (thankfully he lives on 8th between the “e” and “f” streets.) we abandoned the car by the stop sign. first husband fixed the chain, both kids got back on their bikes and i had to trot behind them for the remaining four (high altitude) blocks carrying the two backpacks and the trumpet… like a sherpa. it was hotter than hades and i was EXHAUSTED (and sweaty) by the time we got to school.

(this is me carrying all of the kids’ stuff to school with the flatirons in the background)

i vowed never to participate in this particular boulder ritual again, even though it meant that my kids would not be treated to a banana and a snack bar when they got to school. they also would not be given a special sticker to wear and would feel a little “less than” like the plain belly sneeches amongst all the super athletic boulder star bellies. i did feel a little guilty about that, but honestly, every kid needs something to talk about with their therapist in their forties, so really i was just giving them material. also, i did not have a car the entire time we were in amsterdam so i think i paid it forward doing all my marketing and schlepping theo around in my big box bike.

(my SUV of a bike , the bakfiets)

a few weeks ago, i pulled my bike out of the shed for the first time since that lamentable morning. the tires were completely flat and the back fender was bent (it must have fallen over in the shed at some point.) first husband graciously pumped up the tires (he got the dutch poker for refilling the tire air in the divorce settlement - american pokers don’t work on my bike as we brought it from amsterdam when we moved) and pushed the fender back into the correct place. we all (first, lucy and i - theo is too teenagery to hang out with us much now) rode bikes to the CU tailgate party because it is impossible to park on campus on game days. i must say, i was pretty proud of myself. all of the bike chains stayed on, no one crashed into a traffic sign and my hands remained clean. the only collateral damage was my bum was pretty sore the next day.