Walkers

As I was walking my kids to school this morning, a beautiful, young woman waiting at the crosswalk in her car rolled down her window and shouted (nicely) at me.

 

“I see you walking your herd everyday and I just want to tell you that you are such an inspiration to me!” she said.

 

“Thank you!” I said.

 

“Seriously, I just had my first baby and you give me hope that I might be able to do things like that in the future!”

 

“Thanks!  It’s not easy, but it’s doable!” I said, and then waved and pushed on my way.

 

Everyday, I walk Charles to school, a half-mile there, a half-mile back, repeat in the afternoon when school is over.  I take Jamie in the stroller, Freddie in the frontpack, and Buster on a leash.  Charles rides his bike or his scooter, and Jamie sometimes rides his scooter about halfway to school.  It’s controlled chaos, made more stressful by the fact that every. damn. day. I see someone run a red light at the major intersection we cross not a block from our house. 

 

 

Tangent alert: WHY DO PEOPLE RUN RED LIGHTS?  Obviously, their time is SO much more important than anyone else’s time or safety.  A few weeks ago, a bicyclist was hit at the same intersection we cross four times daily.  I’m just waiting for another, bigger accident; these selfish assholes see the light turn yellow from three hundred feet away from the intersection, they gun their engines and then speed through the intersection at 40 miles an hour.  Just STOP IT, already.  Don’t run red lights.  You’re putting everyone in danger, especially the small person riding a bike whom you can’t see because he’s small and moving quickly.  Sheesh.

 

 

It was so wonderful to hear such a nice compliment from a perfect stranger.  I know I don’t have it all together, but hell, I look like I do.  The secret is to do the things that are difficult until they either become less difficult or you are numb to their difficulty.

 

 

The walks in the morning and the afternoon have helped with my peace of mind immensely.  It’s a nice, clean break from the mom I am right before we leave the house, shouting “C’mon, c’mon, let’s go, we’re LATE!”  All of the sudden, there we are, in the fresh air, hoofing it up and over the hills to school, Charles calling out the numbers on the busses, Jamie pointing out the garbage trucks that pass, Freddie falling asleep on my chest.  The extra time to walk to and from school twice each day means I spend less time at the office, but it’s worth the extra sense of urgency when I work because I get to that fresh air, that exercise, and that time with my boys.

 

Snug in the Ergo, fast asleep.  The cover is a Peekaru (everyone asks).

 

Sometimes I get overwhelmed when I think about making that mile-long walk, twice a day, everyday, for the next ten years.  But, like most things, it helps to take it one day at a time.  And I enjoy that walk each day.  May I always see it as a joy and never a burden.