Chehalis Western Trail

Since the weather was decent enough to do a bike ride today (and by "decent" I mean not snowing, yet still cold enough to) we packed up the kids and hit the Chehalis Western Trail. We did 45 miles. In the past, Dale has always been the one to pull the kids in their little trailer. It's something I'd always considered a "dad job", so I never volunteered to do it. It looked like hard work. This was Dale's first official ride with his new bike, and when we arrived at the trail head he happily informed me that this new bike of his didn't have the right hookups for the trailer, and it was now officially my job! I thought to myself...Ok, put on your big girl panties and get it done...

So as we rode along, I'll admit- Dale's bragging about his new bike did get a little old. This is actually what he said to me "Honey! My new bike is AMAZING!! I barely have to push on the pedals and look how fast I'm going!" And to that I replied, "That's great! Hey- don't let me slow you down! I'll just back here pulling an extra 75 pounds that I'm not used to!"

We rode all the way to Tenino, where the trail ends at a park. We ate lunch and let the kids run around and play. Once we finished, we packed up and left. About halfway back, the kids started fighting in the trailer. I actually yelled back at them to stop fighting or I'd pull that bike over! Well, they didn't stop, and Bella was bawling, so we pulled over. We were like, "Bella- What's wrong? What happened? Why are you crying?" More crying, and harder crying, but no answer. Dale and I were starting to get short with her. "BELLA! Why are you crying?!" Then I insensitively told Dale- "Whenever she pulls this at home I just ignore her, and eventually she'll come around." Then, as Dale and I stood there like deer in the headlights, Bella puked. EVERYWHERE.

Allow me to go off onto a tangent here...I hate puke. I actually have a full-on phobia of it. I don't want to be the puke-ee, be around the puke-er, see it, smell it, hear it, nothing. It is disgusting, and I hate it. It is the sole reason that I am not a nurse.

In that moment, as the threw up all over the inside of that little trailer, something donned on me: I don't get to be afraid of puke anymore. I am a mother now, and I don't get to choose to run away from barf. I have to drop this phobia, and drop it right now.

We were 15 miles from our car, out in the middle of the woods, and the only means to clean up Bella, Rowan and the inside of the trailer was a little travel pack containing 5 baby wipes. Ugh!

Luckily, I had already taken all the pictures.

Since Dale never misses an opportunity to tease me or make fun of me, he did then point out that the kids have been perfectly fine on the countless rides he has taken them on, yet the first time I pull their trailer, Bella gets motion-sick.