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I think it's funny that everyone assumes that
"babysitting" is Mike's word for it. Actually, he hates that word, but I
use it because when I'm "parenting" my son, it means that his needs (and even
some wants) come first, and mine come second. Which means for the most
part, I'm sitting, watching Hercules for the 437th time (thank Zeus for
James Woods!) or admiring the latest sommersault (sp?) he's done. Good
stuff, and I wouldn't trade it, but when I'm not riding, it's babysitting to
me. You say tomato, I say tomahto. . . Our parenting styles
are different, and Mike is less likely to drop what he's doing to tie Mitch's
wagon on the back of his trike, or take the hitch off the back of the truck
three or four times just to see how it works. I will try Angie's
suggestions as to blaming my mood on my lack of riding. And every year
Mitch gets older makes it easier. But no matter what, I still don't see a
way to ride 50s until he's 6 or 7. . .
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