Get The Hell Out

I live in Michigan. It's beautiful here. It's beautiful other places too.  Like Colorado, where I lived for 6 years. I loved Colorado, but there's NO BIG WATER and, if you grew up in Michigan, you have water in your blood. Literally and figuratively. I don't think it's beautiful in Oklahoma. I think one "tolerates" Oklahoma, and prays for family to move away to other exotic locales, like Nebraska, where they can visit. But this isn't really a travel blog. At least not yet.

My son and I have bikes. Bikes are a cheap date, and we try to get on them when the weather allows which is a great deal of time in Michigan. We create "destination" trips for ourselves. I usually carry a backpack and, a bike ride may include a trip to the market for dinner stuff (or lunch stuff), a stop at the coffee shop, and maybe the yogurt stand if it's in the evening. The point of this is that we spend time together, seeing things one passes quickly in a car (or never sees at all), and we talk. Sometimes about nothing at all, and sometimes about something that might be bothering someone, or something that has someone really happy or excited. Bike rides are a great time to listen to your kid(s).

We also have shoes. Shoes are an even cheaper date than bikes, and if you're lucky you get to hold a hand. My son is almost 10, and still holds my hand. When weather doesn't permit bikes, walking is great. The sights, sounds and smells of outside are different, so it's a different show than the one in warmer months. These walks can also have a destination or itinerary element to them, we just have to park the car at a spot that works into the route. In a pinch we walk around the neighborhood, where it's good for my son (and I) to have a presence in our community. Afterall, we live here. Finn and I BOTH live here. We know the woman who has the cute dogs, as well as who to go to when our bike tire is a little flat (Wally, the saint next door.)

Sometimes we ride the bikes down to the big park by our house and take the football or the frisbee and toss it around. This inevitably leads to that mystical event in which kids attract other kids. It's a joy to watch, even though it usually means I  get rotated out of the tossing sequence. I am happy to watch from the bench. Kids don't give a shit about religion or culture.

The point is we get outside, and so what if sometimes my son looks like Richie Tenenbaum.