Have you heard about Walk + Bike to School Day? Yeah, I was wishing I hadn’t at about 6 a.m. this morning. I had volunteered to get up early (not much earlier, mind you) and leave a bit early (half an hour) to be a “station person” and meet up with whatever kids wanted to join us to (get this) walk to school.

What a concept.

We drive, walk, and occasionally bike to school, but mostly we drive. (See: Childhood heart disease on the rise, childhood obesity, diabetes and asthma on the rise. See: Fat, grouchy grown-ups driving everyone everywhere. See: Grown-ups rush-rushing, driving themselves crazy. See and hear: Kids yelling in the back seat and kicking.) We drive, mostly. I’m grouchy in the mornings. Heh! What a laugh — I’m grouchy most of the time! And the kids, who love to stay up ’til 10 or 11 at night (even though we read stories, play Itsy-Bitsy Spider, put on puppet shows, give hugs and kisses, (“A routine! They must have a bedtime routine! — all child behavior specialists, in unison) — yeah. Good luck getting those little blonde slackers up in the morning.

Wacky Girl/Wacky Boy, either one, any day: “I am not getting dressed, I’m sleeping.”

They flippin’ have a routine, my kids. Their routine is to torture their father and me until we are old, wrinkled and unable to put up a fight. They do stay in their rooms, but they don’t like it, the sleep. The sleep gets in the way of playing. Then in the morning, they grouse. (They get that from their dad.) But this morning, they were awake, dressed, happy and eating breakfast. Why? They knew we were walking to school.

Wacky Girl: “Will anyone be meeting us?”
Me, thinking: God, I hope not. (and saying aloud): “We’ll have to see, baby.” (No one did. Their parents drove.)

Monsoon hit. Rain pouring. Me, shivering. Boots. Shoes in a bag. Raincoats? (This set us back a good ten minutes, because my raincoat was not where I left it. Oh, wait, yes it was. I just didn’t see it.) A? My friend A? She gave Wacky Boy an awesome hand-me-down raincoat from her sons — a yellow slicker with a hood that stays put and big pockets. Wacky Girl’s coat from last year still fits. Awesome! Raincoats, boots, everything fits. Awesome!!!

Wacky Boy: I will put my rocks in these pockets.

We got our wagon loaded with lunches, bookbags, shoes and blankets for Wacky Boy, who walks halfway and then gets tired. We set out. The rain stopped. Some light came out. It wasn’t really the sun, but it was light!

I smelled the air. It smelled great! I enjoyed looking at everyone’s flowers — the asters, marigolds, cosmos, honeysuckle, petunias, fall leaves on the trees and shrubs, so pretty! We splashed in every puddle we found. We ran into friends, who were late to man a table for Walk + Bike Day (the kids get prizes and stickers, and a big warm welcome).

Wacky Girl, jumping up and down in her boots: “Mom, I saw a rainbow! Well, maybe not a rainbow, but there are sparkly colors in the sky.”
me, smiling and happy: “It looks like the beginning of a rainbow.”

Wacky Boy, shyly: “Can I splash in that hugest puddle?”
me: “Sure.”
Wacky Boy: “I saw a two-headed green worm!”
me: “Wow!”

Even with all that splashing and dawdling and rainbow- and worm-admiring, we got to school early. Changed into shoes. Got our stuff arranged. I talked with my daughter’s teacher for a second, and with my son’s teacher for two seconds. It was a great start to the day. If you want to try to get something like this organized for your school, go for it.

My kids? It is impossible to stay in a bad mood when my kids are this happy. It is just impossible.