In my constant quest for health and well-being, and after consulting with an endocrinologist a couple of weeks ago about my PCOS and post-partum depression, I committed to spending an hour every morning walking outside. This morning Benjamin decided that he needed to be with me at all costs, so he agreed to ride his bike as I ventured the four miles on the trail of a local park. Of course, we had to stop to pee in the woods (Ben, not me!), get about five drinks of water from the fountain, adjust the bike seat, adjust his helmet, dialog about how far we'd gone and whether or not we were done yet (we've only gone a mile, mommy? ugh!!! i wish we done mommy- when we can turn around mommy?!!!).

When Ben was two, my parents bought him his first "real" bike (non-tricycle style) and he took off like a lightning bolt. My Dad nick-named him "Ben Armstrong". When he begged us to take his training wheels off a month ago, we did and he got on his bike and rode up the street- no practice, no wobbling- he just went. So, needless to say, despite his complaints to the contrary, the four miles we traversed this morning were actually very easy for him and when we were done- we both cheered and he determined that his next adventure would be longer ("mommy- people actually ride ten miles? that possible mommy?").

Hooray for my happy-slappy gettin' healthy. Hooray for Ben Armstrong.

"Ben Armstrong" and brother Seth- hanging tough for four miles with their determined mommy.