Friday!

When my alarm went off this morning, I thought it was Saturday and rolled over. Then I remembered my alarm doesn't go off on Saturday mornings and, despite the overwhelming urge to ignore it, I hit the snooze button.

I must have hit it three times, but I only remember hitting it twice.

Eventually, I realized that denial wasn't going to change the fact the Junior would not be getting up either, unless I did something about it.

Getting my kid up for school is one of the less pleasant tasks in my day. Mostly because it means I have to get up and I don't want to. So I go into his room and cuddle with him for a few minutes. Then I tickle him just to make sure he's awake.

I love those quiet moments we have together. We talk about the dreams we had or, more likely, his inventions - picking up where we left off when he was falling asleep. He's still quiet with sleep in his head so there's a purity about our conversation.

Oh geez, somebody shoot me with this scmaltzy crap already.

Sorry. Unless you've got kids in your life, that you get to hang with when they're in that quiet place, there's no way to explain those little moments without getting all sentimental. They're so fleeting. Even a coffee buzz can't marginalize them.

There's a exam word. I never use that word: marginalize. Not sure where it came from. I must have read it somewhere else.

Rainy weekend ahead. Good time to go to a movie. This weekend it might be "Monsters vs Aliens." Afterward there will be the motorcycle race video game followed by a trip to Denny's.

We do things big out here in the sticks.

You Can Take the Girl Out of the City...

But you can't take the black out of her wardrobe.

My wardrobe is black. This is a trend which started in the 80's, when I lived in the city, and it snowballed. Virtually everything now in my closet is black. Except one plum colored T-shirt and one dark brown blouse. Y'know. In case I ever have to go into an office. To work.

I've been working from home for so long that my black wardrobe has segued from black skirts, tops, and hose to black sweats, socks and crappier tops.

It's a very comfy wardrobe but it doesn't really scream "I'm a fashionista". It's more along the lines of "I work at home and haven't showered yet."

Sometimes when I have to go out and mingle in public, I put on my blue jeans. Around here, far from the city and the subways, the blue jeans help me fit in. With my black top, socks and shoes. It's great because I never have to worry about anything matching. I only have to worry about the crap factor of my top and where it falls in the "how much I care" category that day: as in "will I have to take off my coat?"

Sometimes, living 30 miles from the closest mall can have its drawbacks.

Being low maintenance doesn't help either.

And sometimes, don't tell anybody, but I really do care.

Two Wheelin'

Last Spring, we got a new bicycle for our bean-sprout of a kid. He was way too gangly for the hand-me-down "dirt" bike with the training wheels from my nephew (thanks bro for the great bike!). The new bike is a bright blue with black accents (his two favorite colors) and all-terrain-tred tires. With it is a really cool silver helmet with visor.

The visor is key.

Last summer he attempted to ride it exactly once. And then returned to the too-small bike with training wheels.

Saturday, we went for a walk at a nearby nature center. The Sugar House was open, there was fire to play with, there was a pond to poke at with sticks and throw rocks into, birds to chase and trails to hike.

On our way home, we passed our neighbor and her two boys. The oldest is about a year and a half younger than ours. And he was zipping around on his two-wheeler like an old pro. His mom said the training wheels had come off two or three weeks ago and now she couldn't keep him off the bike.

Junior was inspired to pull his beautiful new two-wheeler out and get up to speed. A playdate with the neighbor yesterday gave him incentive to keep trying.

By the end of the day yesterday, he was doing great. He needs a little help getting going, but balance isn't a problem. Except on turns. And sometimes on the straight. And he as an uncanny knack of plowing into the only tree within a hundred feet. Fortunately, the kid knows how to fall, and also how to dump the bike. One of these days he'll figure out that he can use the brakes and then there will be no stopping him. And we'll be the ones riding all over at the nature center. Terrorizing small animals and clueless people in cars.

I can hardly wait.