A Bike Ride

We took a walk this morning, Isabelle and I. We take a walk virtually everyday, she on her bike, me on foot. We have done it so much that Isabelle has worn out one set of tires on her little bike and they actually had to have tubes put in them. Today we broke our usual routine and went in the a.m. instead of the evening.

The air feels slightly heavy and the sun's rays carry the promise of a very hot afternoon, but at the moment it is pleasant on bare shoulders, as I watch Isabelle's sandaled feet pumping ahead of me. Her training wheels barely skim the rode, as she increasingly rides on two wheels going faster everyday, gaining confidence and skill. Her stuffed "Fat Cat" rides in her basket in front of her, as her faithful companion. We turn down a side road on our well-worn route, and I watch her green and white gingham summer dress billow out around her, as she pedals faster, gaining more speed, taking her feet off the pedals and sticking them out straight either side of her, almost flying. Then I hear Isabelle singing, "Oh, I am a princess, and it's a beautiful da--aaayyy! And I am ri--idd-ing my bi--ike! A-and I l-ive in a to-ower! And it's grea-aa-t to be a princess!" The sun is gleaming off her bike helmet, her blonde pony-tail streaming out behind her like a flag, bike tires humming on the pavement, and Isabelle is flesh and blood happiness.

I walked behind my magic child, for in that moment she was pure magic to me, with a mixture of utter bliss and a sense of fleetingness filling up my chest. The enormous grin on my face came from just feeling so LUCKY to be in that moment, to see such joyful, gorgeous innocence, and reminding myself that this was one of the many reasons why I chose to stay home with Isabelle in the first place. So, she and I would have these kinds of memories. Time passes so quickly, and I know that slight tightness in my heart comes partly from thinking I should take a mental snapshot of her right now because my little girl won't need those training wheels next summer and perhaps next year in won't be "cool" to ride with "Fat Cat" in her basket anymore or to sing at the top of her lungs as she rides her bike down the street.

But today Isabelle is still four, loves princesses, bike rides, her "Fat Cat," and can even remind her mother why we should never grow up completely.