the dog will not stop squeaking...

and I know exactly how she feels.

for a month now, I get up, get the kids ready for school, and we all mount up on bikes or scooters (I'm always on a bike) and head to school.  The neighbor's daughter rides with us.  Then I ride back, take the dog (the squeaking one) for a run with me on the bike, and come back for our poor old arthritic dog, who I walk around the block with squeaky doing her cool-down lap.  I'll be honest, for the first half hour I'm up I keep thinking of reasons why today I'm *not* going to ride.  I'm not going to struggle for air as I hike it up the hill, I'm not going to pedal so fast my legs burn, I'm not going to get all sweaty and smelly first thing in the morning.  I'm not going to start my day sucking wind with my face roughly the color of Barney.  But... when it comes down to time to go, I go.  I put on my sneakers, and check the kids' helmets, and make sure we have everything, and pedal off shouting things like "stay together!" and "stop at the stop sign!"

Yesterday, my bike broke.  I use the term 'my' loosely, as it is actually the bike my mother brought me after it had done hard time collecting dust in her various garages.  There are people whose castoffs you want, and people who, when offering you something of theirs they no longer want, inspire you to feign deafness.  My mother is one of the latter.  I knew this going in, but... even now, I wouldn't change it.  Because I wouldn't trade this last month of riding the kids to school for anything.  ANYTHING.  No matter how I gasp for a breath.  No matter how much I want to just roll over and go back to sleep in the morning.  Neither the sleep nor the air would I trade. 

But this morning, there was no bike for me to ride.  MDH is off, so he got on his bike and rode with them... and the dog and I stayed home, and watched them go.

She is still squeaking.  And if I could hit that note, I would probably join her.