What a day....
OK, remember I said I had to leave to go pick up Gavin from school? Well, I went out, and noticed a tornado watch on the TV as I was walking out the door. I get in my car and head up the block. Car acts funny-- like the emergency break is on. It's not. I pull over and put it in park and get out. Yep, flat tire. Completely flat. Like, sitting on the rim flat. I get back in said car and drive slowly back to my driveway and park it.
Ok, so now what do I do??? Doug is at work, which is 20 miles away and Gavin is 1 mile away waiting for me. It's raining. There's a tornado watch. So, I grab my bike and head out. What a bright idea! It is a 1 mile ride, uphill both ways. I'm not kidding. On the way there, you go uphill to a plateau, go down hill a little, back uphill, then down a REALLY steep hill to the school. Did I mention this is in the rain? And I'm 7 months pregnant? And dying?
So, I'm crying as I ride along, but no one can tell cuz it's raining anyway. Finally, I can't cry anymore because I can barely breath. Breathing takes precedence over crying. Or, I guess I should say, gasping for air takes precedence. Mind you, I am only wearing a white t-shirt, an abercrombie hoodie and cotton eeyore boxer shorts because I hadn't gotten dressed today.
I can't take the hoodie off, because I didn't put a bra on. I know, I'm a loser.
Alright, so I finally make it to the school. By this time, Gavin's the last child there. He comes out and I explain that I had a flat (I had called the school and told them so they'd keep him in the office until I got there) and that we'd have to ride the bike home. Now, you have to understand that I used to ride bikes A LOT. My father's dream in life is to ride the Tour de France. Or ride to Alaska. From Ohio. I'm not kidding. My first bike ride that wasn't just paling around the block with my friends was a 40 mile "kiddie" ride when I was about 12. My sister is going to college on a BIKE RIDING scholarship. She's on a bike team that travels all over to the country to compete (see her here: Sara Hickey http://www.cyclingnews.com/track.php?id=photos/2003/sep03/nccatrackchamps/day1/MZ10 See? I wasn't kidding!). Bike riding runs through our veins. So, I only have to ride 2 miles today. No big deal, right? WRONG. So, as soon as me & Gavin start walking across the crosswalk from the school, he's holding his belly. I ask him if he's ok. "My belly feels bad." Great. He's going to throw up and I'm a mile from home, on a bike with no anti-anxiety meds. But, I'm too out of breath and energy to have a panic attack so I ask him if he wants to ride on the bike while I push it so he doesn't have to walk (and hopefully won't throw up).
I still have the baby carrier attached to my bike from when Gavin was a baby. Why, you ask? Well, because Fajita, my chihuahua, likes riding in it. Seriously. So, I have Gavin climb up my bike, using me for support because I'm not strong enough to lift him up at this point in the pregnancy. He manages to wedge his butt down into the seat sideways with his legs hanging out over the side. I drop his backpack into his "lap" and off we go. I get on and attempt to ride the bike, but remember there is a VERY steep hill first thing. Not happening. So, I get off and start pushing the bike and Gavin up the mountain. It. takes. forever. You know those movies where it shows someone running down a corridor that just keeps getting longer and longer? Yea, that's what was happening with this hill. In the rain. Getting no oxygen. Begging for a merciful death.
I think Gavin thinks I'm going to drop the bike, and thus drop him, so he keeps saying "Mom, I can get down, I don't mind walking, really I don't. It's fun." Yea, fun like a root canal is fun.
FINALLY we get to the summit of the first mountain. Thankfully the rain has eased off to some light sprinkles. I climb on the bike and ride down the incline until it starts rising again. I peddle like 5 times and decide I'd like to go into labor now. So, I get off the bike and start pushing it (and Gavin) up the next hill. Can't breath. Legs feel like they've swelled to 12 times their normal size. Lungs feel like I've breathed in fire tinged with acid.
Somehow, I make it to the top of the second hill and I tell Gavin he can get off and walk the rest of the way, as we are only about 3 blocks from home now. I get to a safe spot and "tip" the bike over so he can get out. His butt is still wedged into the baby carrier, so it takes him a second. Now that he's out, he's cold. He has no jacket. I'm burning up. I give him mine and just hope that everyone has seen those women in National Geographic, so I don't seem like such a freak with my udders & pregnant belly in this white t-shirt.
We make it home and I collapse on the couch.
I hope I can walk tomorrow.
Ok, so now what do I do??? Doug is at work, which is 20 miles away and Gavin is 1 mile away waiting for me. It's raining. There's a tornado watch. So, I grab my bike and head out. What a bright idea! It is a 1 mile ride, uphill both ways. I'm not kidding. On the way there, you go uphill to a plateau, go down hill a little, back uphill, then down a REALLY steep hill to the school. Did I mention this is in the rain? And I'm 7 months pregnant? And dying?
So, I'm crying as I ride along, but no one can tell cuz it's raining anyway. Finally, I can't cry anymore because I can barely breath. Breathing takes precedence over crying. Or, I guess I should say, gasping for air takes precedence. Mind you, I am only wearing a white t-shirt, an abercrombie hoodie and cotton eeyore boxer shorts because I hadn't gotten dressed today.
I can't take the hoodie off, because I didn't put a bra on. I know, I'm a loser.
Alright, so I finally make it to the school. By this time, Gavin's the last child there. He comes out and I explain that I had a flat (I had called the school and told them so they'd keep him in the office until I got there) and that we'd have to ride the bike home. Now, you have to understand that I used to ride bikes A LOT. My father's dream in life is to ride the Tour de France. Or ride to Alaska. From Ohio. I'm not kidding. My first bike ride that wasn't just paling around the block with my friends was a 40 mile "kiddie" ride when I was about 12. My sister is going to college on a BIKE RIDING scholarship. She's on a bike team that travels all over to the country to compete (see her here: Sara Hickey http://www.cyclingnews.com/track.php?id=photos/2003/sep03/nccatrackchamps/day1/MZ10 See? I wasn't kidding!). Bike riding runs through our veins. So, I only have to ride 2 miles today. No big deal, right? WRONG. So, as soon as me & Gavin start walking across the crosswalk from the school, he's holding his belly. I ask him if he's ok. "My belly feels bad." Great. He's going to throw up and I'm a mile from home, on a bike with no anti-anxiety meds. But, I'm too out of breath and energy to have a panic attack so I ask him if he wants to ride on the bike while I push it so he doesn't have to walk (and hopefully won't throw up).
I still have the baby carrier attached to my bike from when Gavin was a baby. Why, you ask? Well, because Fajita, my chihuahua, likes riding in it. Seriously. So, I have Gavin climb up my bike, using me for support because I'm not strong enough to lift him up at this point in the pregnancy. He manages to wedge his butt down into the seat sideways with his legs hanging out over the side. I drop his backpack into his "lap" and off we go. I get on and attempt to ride the bike, but remember there is a VERY steep hill first thing. Not happening. So, I get off and start pushing the bike and Gavin up the mountain. It. takes. forever. You know those movies where it shows someone running down a corridor that just keeps getting longer and longer? Yea, that's what was happening with this hill. In the rain. Getting no oxygen. Begging for a merciful death.
I think Gavin thinks I'm going to drop the bike, and thus drop him, so he keeps saying "Mom, I can get down, I don't mind walking, really I don't. It's fun." Yea, fun like a root canal is fun.
FINALLY we get to the summit of the first mountain. Thankfully the rain has eased off to some light sprinkles. I climb on the bike and ride down the incline until it starts rising again. I peddle like 5 times and decide I'd like to go into labor now. So, I get off the bike and start pushing it (and Gavin) up the next hill. Can't breath. Legs feel like they've swelled to 12 times their normal size. Lungs feel like I've breathed in fire tinged with acid.
Somehow, I make it to the top of the second hill and I tell Gavin he can get off and walk the rest of the way, as we are only about 3 blocks from home now. I get to a safe spot and "tip" the bike over so he can get out. His butt is still wedged into the baby carrier, so it takes him a second. Now that he's out, he's cold. He has no jacket. I'm burning up. I give him mine and just hope that everyone has seen those women in National Geographic, so I don't seem like such a freak with my udders & pregnant belly in this white t-shirt.
We make it home and I collapse on the couch.
I hope I can walk tomorrow.
posted by Carey @ 5:52 PM
2 Comments:
At 6:14 PM,
Shannon said…
Can you transfer your exercise over to my butt?
:) shannon
At 8:47 PM,
Daniel said…
I am a Blog virus. Copy me into your blog & link back to the blog you contracted the virus, leaving a comment to link to yourself.
Holy Carp Batman, I thought I had it tough rolling out of bed this morning due to extreme sleepiness. I see now I am not the tough manly man I thought I was.
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