Just one more item on the gratitude list: A hand-me-down baby-bike seat, passed to my neighbor-brother.
A little more than 7 years ago Mexicanjumpingbain's Godparents graced us with the perfect gift for a country baby and busy mama. A baby seat for my bike. If living in the country has taught me one thing, it's frugality. You never know when something will come in handy, so all kinds of intriguing detritus collects. I know, I have a basement brimming with examples: shelving, not quite ready to be thrown away, a refrigerator that might be fixable, lots of riding toys needing tire expertise, and a huge persian rug. There was no way that baby seat was ever going to be tossed.
Before I could even articulate I had depression issues - I just knew exercising made the world a nicer place - I would bundle mjb into a veritable baby burrito and head out for a bike ride. He would be swaddled so tight the safety straps wouldn't go around him, but his baby-ness wasn't able to squirm yet anyway. He was born in January, and even on the coldest days we would go for a ride. The crisp morning air and January-blue sky was soul medicine for me. The fresh air was so intoxicating for mexicanjumpingbain, he usually passed out before we returned home. I repeated the exact same cycle with butterbain, born 3 years later. Early morning nursing, swaddle baby, get dressed, scoop up baby burrito, tuck into bike seat and exhale as I start peddling.
Some of my fondest memories of those babies happened on that bike/baby seat. Checking on them over my shoulder as I huffed up a hill, or their sweet baby sounds letting me know they were loving and absorbing all the natural God-love we were peddling through.
Don't think for a minute they stopped riding in that seat when they were babies. I know I carted mexicanjumpingbain around in it when he was upward of 40 pounds, and Butterbain last rode in it about six months ago. I knew the time had come to hand it down when getting Butterbain out of the seat turned into an "extraction."
My time with babies, or more appropriately big boys, on the back of my bike has come to and end. I'm not sad, just grateful I get to pass the torch (and the seat) to someone else.
Happy memory-building, bro.
This is linked to Ann.