I want to ride my bicycle; I want to ride my bike...

I actually remembered to go to play group one day last month. Actually, that's not true; Megs called and asked if I was going. I have the hardest time remembering stuff like this. For example, I just barely realized that I forgot to go to the Relief Society Picnic in the Park today. I also just realized that I forgot to use my Wal-Mart gift card when I went to Wal-Mart to get groceries today. I don't know what's wrong with me... I've got a lot on my mind, I guess. And a lot coming up out of my stomach. :) On Saturday, all I kept down were a few fries and a coke. True story.

I digress. For play group that day, our kids rode bikes in the church's parking lot. It was a hot tamale that day. Mama mia.

Sadie wouldn't try the small bike with training wheels that we have. It really is probably way too small for her legs, anyways, since she's a gazelle and all. I have tall children. I don't think the smallness of the bike is deterring her from learning how to ride. I think she has zero interest in learning. If Dylan wants to ride around the block, and she doesn't want to be left behind, she will run next to him in her little pidgeon-toed run, hair flying behind her. I'm not going to worry about it this summer. I'm too big to jog beside her as she rides, holding the seat with my hand. I'll be in a better place, physically, next summer.

Micah was being a pill. That's his schtick. He actually pushed over a little one-year-old. How embarrassing. I put him in time-out underneath a tree that was far away from everyone else. The mom was really gracious. I don't know if I would have been that gracious.

Dyl and his cronies rode around a ton, obviously. And they found a crushed Rock Star can. They thought Rock Star is an alcoholic drink. They wouldn't touch it with their hands. They kicked it over to us mamas and showed it to us, in hushed voices. Adorable. Such good kids.

So apparently, it was the lawn-care guys' day to mow the lawns around the church. They showed up, and they just started mowing, like two feet behind us. We all had to scramble to load up our stuff and get off the lawn, as they got closer and closer. So rude! They could have come up to us and said, "Gee, we are so sorry, but we have to mow right here. Can we get you to move your stuff over to such-and-such part that we already mowed?" That's what I would have done. I get really frustrated when people act in a way that I wouldn't act. Which is really dumb. Everyone is different. But I think it's important to be courteous.

When they fired up the mowers, Micah fa-reaked out. He had shut himself in our stroller and couldn't get out, so he was screaming:

He is really scared of lawnmowers. I was desperately trying to gather up my other children, food, and picnic blanket so that we could get out of there without getting mowed up, so he just had to sit and scream. He is so very dramatic.