30 Seconds to Disaster
The day started well enough, we all slept in, headed off to church trial number 3, had lunch and then Sunday obligatory naps. After we rested or slept we decided to head off into the forest as a family. Matt and Eli would ride their bikes and Gabriel would ride his bike while I run along side him. It was a great plan.
We assured Gabe that it was not a cobblestone path (too bumpy) and that there were no sidewalks to ride up and down (his big fear). He hopped on his bike and started toward the gate. Then it started. There was a white line at the gate exit, you know the kind that is painted on the road to tell you where to make a full and complete stop. He got off his bike and walked it across the line. I take a deep breath.
"Come on Gabe, you can ride on the paved path, there are no more white stop lines on the pavement and we can avoid all pot holes and bumps in the road because no cars come down here".
He starts to peddle, I start to pick up my pace a bit, and then disaster strikes. Less than .02 miles from the start of this journey he freaks. He sees a slight, minor, baby incline and starts screaming. "Oh no a hill".
Then he keeps screaming and crying and I put my hand on his back and help him up the hill so he doesn't have to peddle hard but he keeps crying.
Things get foggy here. I lose my mind. All sense of sanity goes out the window and I make the biggest, most embarrassing scene ever.
I stand him up on the side of the road and tell him "you will stop screaming and you will get on that bike and ride it now".
He screams.
"Fine you don't want to ride your bike? You are going to run with me. You got it? 5k in 30 minutes or less. Lets go".
He still had his helmet on and I took his hand and we started running. I abandoned the bike on the side of the road and we run.
Reality hits me. This child cannot run with me for another 100 feet let alone to the wild buffalo. I stop and ask him "do you want to keep running or ride your bike?"
He cries.
I look back and Matt is riding his bike while carrying Gabe's bike.
I'm flaming mad. Steam is coming out my ears. Gabe's life is flashing before my eyes, I want to duck tape his little body onto the bike and force him to ride the darn thing through the beautiful forest on this beautiful Sunday afternoon. NOW!!
This was supposed to be a fun family activity and Gabe, in his defiance and unrealistic psychosis fears has ruined it for me.
Matt and Eli head off to the buffalo and I storm home with Gabe. I have to walk past the guards who are probably laughing at the whole scene. I am telling Gabe how frustrated I am with him because he is not willing to even try. The neighbors hear me ranting at him, he is crying . . . still, and we finally make it home. I make him bring his bike down the stairs and into the storage unit - where it will stay, and we go upstairs. He sits on his bed. I sigh.
Such a great plan, such a great day, explodes into disaster in moments.
On to plan B. Matt and Eli are back from their ride. I'm off to run alone, and Gabe is sitting in his room where there is no potential for white lines, bumps, minor hills, and side walks.
We assured Gabe that it was not a cobblestone path (too bumpy) and that there were no sidewalks to ride up and down (his big fear). He hopped on his bike and started toward the gate. Then it started. There was a white line at the gate exit, you know the kind that is painted on the road to tell you where to make a full and complete stop. He got off his bike and walked it across the line. I take a deep breath.
"Come on Gabe, you can ride on the paved path, there are no more white stop lines on the pavement and we can avoid all pot holes and bumps in the road because no cars come down here".
He starts to peddle, I start to pick up my pace a bit, and then disaster strikes. Less than .02 miles from the start of this journey he freaks. He sees a slight, minor, baby incline and starts screaming. "Oh no a hill".
Then he keeps screaming and crying and I put my hand on his back and help him up the hill so he doesn't have to peddle hard but he keeps crying.
Things get foggy here. I lose my mind. All sense of sanity goes out the window and I make the biggest, most embarrassing scene ever.
I stand him up on the side of the road and tell him "you will stop screaming and you will get on that bike and ride it now".
He screams.
"Fine you don't want to ride your bike? You are going to run with me. You got it? 5k in 30 minutes or less. Lets go".
He still had his helmet on and I took his hand and we started running. I abandoned the bike on the side of the road and we run.
Reality hits me. This child cannot run with me for another 100 feet let alone to the wild buffalo. I stop and ask him "do you want to keep running or ride your bike?"
He cries.
I look back and Matt is riding his bike while carrying Gabe's bike.
I'm flaming mad. Steam is coming out my ears. Gabe's life is flashing before my eyes, I want to duck tape his little body onto the bike and force him to ride the darn thing through the beautiful forest on this beautiful Sunday afternoon. NOW!!
This was supposed to be a fun family activity and Gabe, in his defiance and unrealistic psychosis fears has ruined it for me.
Matt and Eli head off to the buffalo and I storm home with Gabe. I have to walk past the guards who are probably laughing at the whole scene. I am telling Gabe how frustrated I am with him because he is not willing to even try. The neighbors hear me ranting at him, he is crying . . . still, and we finally make it home. I make him bring his bike down the stairs and into the storage unit - where it will stay, and we go upstairs. He sits on his bed. I sigh.
Such a great plan, such a great day, explodes into disaster in moments.
On to plan B. Matt and Eli are back from their ride. I'm off to run alone, and Gabe is sitting in his room where there is no potential for white lines, bumps, minor hills, and side walks.
Comments
I don't know if you're laughing about it yet, or if it will be a few more days, but I read this outloud to CJ and we had a good laugh. With you, not at you :).