The Amazing Milwaukee Race on Bikes 3!

This past weekend I was in The Amazing Milwaukee Race on Bikes again!  What a blast.

We are so lucky in Milwaukee to have someone like Adam Baus who wants to go to all the trouble to design interesting races around our city.  I can't imagine how he makes the time for it, but I'm glad he does.

This was the third biking version of the race, and the first with perfect weather.  (The first bike race was plagued by three tremendous cloudbursts, and I was dumb enough to be wearing jeans.  This time around I had on bike shorts because I wasn't risking that kind of struggle again.)  The version on foot is great, too, but I've only managed to do that once with my friend, Linda, and another time our violin store got to be a stop on the race which was really exciting.

Ian had Army commitments, so my friend and fellow luthier, Robyn, agreed to join me.  Team name: The Violin Femmes.

Our official race punch card

We did the "B" or "Short" course.  (I don't know the three extra stops the people on the longer course did.)  The short course was supposed to be around 15 miles, and the long one about 30, but since Robyn and I biked from our homes up to the Start/Finish Line we ended up clocking in about 27 miles total.  I only had to walk my bike up one hill at the very end because I hadn't paced myself to face the last incline on the bridge over the freeway after climbing the hill before it, so that's not bad.  (I suppose next time I might bite the bullet and go for the "A" course since after a nice shower I was fine and couldn't really tell the next day I'd done anything.)

Robyn, pre-race

The race began about four miles north of my home at a place called Jackson's Blue Ribbon Pub (at 10th and Juneau near the original Pabst Brewery).  We arrived in plenty of time to check in and for Robyn to grab a little breakfast and check her smartphone.  (I may not be smart enough to have a smartphone, but I'm smart enough to have friends who have smartphones!)

At 11:45 we assembled in Zilber Park behind the building.  I'm including a picture of us posing by the odd statue of the Zilbers in the park because it's the only photographic evidence I have that I was in this race.  (Weird statue.  It included dead weeds sculpted at the figures' feet.  And a large spider was living inside Mr Zilber's bronze sleeve.)

Me, Robyn, and the Zilbers

bronze weeds

After addressing the teams and reviewing basic rules and safety, the race volunteers handed one person from every team an envelope that we were instructed not to open until the end of the countdown.  We were told each envelope had two Scrabble letters, and we had to team up with others around us to spell a six letter word before we could receive our first clue.

Between us and two other teams nearby we had two G's, an I, a U, a T, and a blank.  I'm a good Scrabble player, but that wasn't looking promising.  I laid out the blank as an N so we could create something that ended in ING, and suggested we keep the T, but see if we could trade in two letters.  We got two things about like what we'd just traded in, so we did it again, and eventually were able to spell the word "EATING" and finally get our first clue.

Now, my downfall in these races has always been, and continues to be, not reading carefully enough.  I'm still annoyed with myself that in the second bike race we spent so much extra time in the cemetery when we didn't have to.  We could have won I tell you!  But no, because I didn't realize that we didn't need to solve ALL the clues in the cemetery we lost a lot of time.  In this race we got off to a doubly false start and never quite caught up.

The first thing that threw us was that the last task was included along with the first clue, and it told us to complete two tasks from past races included in a grab bag list before we showed up at the finish line.  Scanning the list of options we noticed one of them was to get a squished penny souvenir from the gift shop at the Pabst Mansion.  I somehow missed the word "Mansion" and thought we were being directed to the Pabst gift shop a block away where we had done the catapult task a couple of years ago, so it seemed smart to dash over there since it was so close and get it out of the way.  But then by the time we realized my mistake the pack of racers was gone and we couldn't follow them.

Our second problem was that we thought of the things included in our clue packet (a map with the grab bag list of final tasks on the back, and two copies of a postcard), that the postcard of a church was the first clue.

Pretty, huh?  And we spotted it just on the other side of the freeway.  We biked over the pedestrian bridge and then all around the church, but there were no race markers or volunteers there.  We were stumped.  Luckily one other team was there and similarly stumped, and they decided to call the race hotline number and ask what to do.

Turns out the first clue was written ON THE MAP.  Duh.  In a big white box labeled "Clue # 1."  It said quite directly to go to Washington Park, which would have been much easier to find if we'd simply followed all the other bikers who read their clue packets carefully.

But at least Robyn and I were finally headed in the right direction, and we got to Washington Park just was we saw many people leaving it.  The task in Washington Park was to score a goal in bike polo on the tennis courts (and then we could get our card punched).  I got to take a mallet and swing at a small ball from my bike and try to get it into what looked like a miniature soccer net.  I narrowly missed the first time, but managed to score a goal on my second attempt.  It was fun!  And over too fast.  I was sorry Robyn didn't get to try because it's surprisingly awkward trying to manage a mallet from atop a bike.

On to the next clue!  Which seemed to be the St Joan of Arc Chapel on the grounds of Marquette University.  I knew that was tucked just beyond the main street somewhere near the dentistry school, but I'd never been there before.  It was built around the 15th century over generations in France, was moved to Long Island, NY in the 1920s, and then to Milwaukee in 1964.  It's weird, because in one sense it's the oldest building in Wisconsin, but in another it's only really been here since the 60s.  Make of that what you will.  Regardless, one of the best things about theses races is the opportunity to go places worth seeing, some of which you may have heard of, and often many you haven't.  I was glad the Chapel was on the route.

However, on the way to Marquette University was the Pabst Mansion!  And its squished penny!

Such a pretty place.  I haven't been inside in years, and it's the sort of landmark that local schoolkids wind up visiting on field trips eventually.  Supposedly at Christmastime the interior is elaborately decorated.  Anyway, people behind the gift shop counter had anticipated the rush of bike racers and were prepared with pre-squished pennies for quick purchase.  I grabbed mine and headed off with Robyn to the chapel.

The St Joan of Arc Chapel is lovely.  My photo here is of the back of it, because I don't know why.  Racing, gotta move, no time for reasonable pictures.  There are several points along the route I wish I had taken a moment to snap a photo or two, but that just didn't happen (because racing).

At the front of the chapel we got our second card punch and our next clue, which sent us to a big red church on the other side of the freeway.  Turns out there is a theater in the lower level of the church I'd never heard of!  An organization called "In Tadem Theatre" so that was interesting to learn about.

The task at In Tandem Theatre was a Roadblock, meaning just one of us had to do it.  It was singing!  Either of us were game to belt out a tune, but we'd read there were typewriters available on site somewhere, and one of the choices for the second grab bag option was to type on a postcard.  We thought maybe we could split up and Robyn could sing and I could type. 

Turns out I had to be in the audience before I would be allowed near any typewriters, which worked out better than fine because I got to enjoy several heartfelt rounds of "Daisy Bell" on a small stage with Adam Baus himself accompanying on keyboard.  Robyn was awesome.

Singers (Robyn in the middle), judges, keyboard

They sang twice, then we got a card punch and found the typewriters, only one of which was working so there was a line.  The instructions were clear that we had to copy a particular bit of text, and if we made a mistake we had to start over.  I described the challenges of using the old Royal typewriters when I had to do this same task in the foot race, so I won't repeat them here, but I was very proud of myself for not making any errors.  Then nobody checked my postcard!  I was so looking forward to showing off my fine work!  So I will display it here for the interwebs to enjoy.

Next stop:  Purple Door Ice Cream in the Walker's Point neighborhood.  Purple Door Ice Cream is someplace we've been meaning to check out since it opened a couple of years ago because it has a reputation as a great place with a great mission.  The task was to buy and finish two scoops of ice cream and show the empty dish(es) to a race volunteer in order to get the next card punch and read the next clue. 

Having cut both sugar and dairy out of my diet at the beginning of the summer, Robyn bravely took one for the team and ate all the ice cream.  She scarfed down scoops of Cookies & Cream and Salted Caramel (which she said was particularly good, and would have been better had she not had to eat it so fast).  She did look a bit brain-freezy at one point, but Robyn's tough I tell ya.

After Purple Door we got back on our bikes and headed for the Old World section of Third Street (which has some attractive but nasty for biking brick roads) where we found the volunteers raising money for repairs to the Kilbourntown Marker which somehow went missing at some point.  I had to read historical information aloud about Mr Kilbourn, then we donated $10 to the cause, got our punch, and sped north to find Reservoir Hill.

This is another great example of why the Amazing Milwaukee Races are so much fun.  We get to learn more about this wonderful place where we live.  I've been wondering for years what's at the top of that hill.  We didn't know if there was still water up there or not, and it's just become one of those things that we drive by but never at a time when we could stop and explore.  I finally got to climb those steps and see! 

Turns out the reservoir was filled in years ago, and the park is a lovely grassy space with a phenomenal view of the city below.  (Excellent spot in this post for a picture you're thinking!  Damn straight.  Wish I'd taken one.  But, you know, racing.) 

And what was our task atop the hill?  Bubbles!  We had to make a really big bubble that lasted at least three full seconds.  I made a bubble a little larger than my head that was deemed too small, but Robyn managed a really great bubble that floated off toward downtown lasting a good ten or fifteen seconds, so we rocked the bubble challenge.

Next clue was written out in sign language.  I'm pretty good at my ASL alphabet (that's one of those basic life skills I've made sure to practice with my kids regularly), but I stumbled briefly on the letter "U" because it looked like an "H" pointing the wrong way.  But a sign language "U" is an "H" pointing the wrong way and I'd just never noticed before.  Anyway, I was glad I could translate the clue quickly and get us moving again.

It says, "Where can you go on a blue ribbon bike ride?"  The blue ribbon bike rides are group rides that meet on Tuesdays that I've never been available for, and I had no idea where they met, although I started to say as Robyn Googled it on her phone that every race includes a bar called The Roman Coin on Brady Street, so when in doubt we should go there.

Turns out Google agreed and off to The Roman Coin we would go!

What awaited us at The Roman Coin was a Detour: We could have our choice of two tasks:  Stripping down to our underwear or counting stairs.

At this point we'd biked up a lot of hills.  We weren't often on the recommended routes and may have biked farther in certain areas than we should have, so the prospect of climbing two different sets of stairs and hauling ourselves all the way over to Pizza Shuttle to verify the number of them sounded exhausting.  So the "Encountering Stares" option instantly appealed to Robyn over the "Count the Stairs" choice, and she was ready to strip down to her underwear and bike to nearby Caesar's Park to get our second to last punch.

What Robyn failed to realize at first was that BOTH of us would have to do this.  Robyn's a tall, beautiful, amateur athlete who does things like half-marathons for fun.  Robyn was willing to strip down even though she wasn't wearing ANY UNDERWEAR.  Just the idea of having a body that doesn't require underwear is amazing to me.

I stood for a while in indecision because my first reaction was absolutely not.  Then I realized how little I wanted to go count stairs, and that I was wearing my super industrial strength bra.  I'd decided in the morning at the last minute to go ahead and wear this special bra I bought for running in case we had to do, you know, some kind of running.  I don't run, but this bra has like a million hooks up the front and pretty well locks my double D's in place in case I have to.  It ain't a pretty bra, but it was about as much coverage as one could ask for with your shirt off. 

The real problem was my underwear.  My husband does the laundry, and he'd been out of town doing Army things, so I was down to that last pair.  You know the pair that you pass over in your drawer until it's the only pair left?  That pair.  This was like the "I told you so" moment for every mother and grandmother who ever said you had to make sure you were in nice underwear before leaving the house because you never knew. 

But I went ahead and did it.  (And, thankfully, no, no pictures of this either.)  It was one of those "Just be brave and get it over with" moments, followed by the reassuring thought that someday the sun will explode and none of this matters.

However, I do have to point out how unfairly this worked out, because Robyn, having not worn any undergarments, got to trade in her biking shorts for a pair of men's boxer-briefs that looked like a baggier version of what she had been wearing, and she just had to roll up the lower part of her biking jersey so it would look a little more like a bra.  Which means Robyn looked about the same.  I was the one in public in the industrial bra and the bad underwear thinking about how I've never even worn something as revealing as a two piece bathing suit outside before.  (Robyn assured me I looked fine, so I simply stripped and tried not to look down or think about it.)

The bike to the park down quiet side streets wasn't bad.  We locked up our bikes at the top of the trail and walked down to the bridge to get our card punched by a woman rocking a cool hat, then had to head back to The Roman Coin to retrieve our clothes.  Unfortunately the route we took the first time was a one way street so we returned down Brady Street, which, on such a beautiful sunny afternoon, was about as packed with people as I've ever seen it.  So, there's that.  I will say, though, that after hours of biking, standing around outside in your underwear is pleasantly breezy.

Once we were dressed we got our last real clue.  And you know where we had to go?  Back to St John's church where we went by mistake in the beginning!  At least we knew how to find it.  This time we were met by volunteers who asked what two grab bag tasks we'd completed (squished penny and typed postcard!), got our final card punch, and headed back to Jackson's Blue Ribbon Pub.

The hill back toward the freeway was steep, and as I mentioned earlier I forgot to budget enough energy to also tackle the uphill part of the bridge so that last little way I had to finally just get off and walk my bike, but I'm pretty proud of myself for otherwise biking the whole route.

How did we do?  Twelfth place.  A respectable finish in the top half, so yay!  The winning team for the B course clocked in at 2 hours 29 minutes, and we were at 3 hours 7 minutes.  (Last place came in at 4 hours 12 minutes.)

The real objective was to have fun, and that was certainly met.  Amazing indeed.  I can't wait for next year!

No Helmet

Today was "Bike (or walk) to School Day" around here.  We have two extra kids staying with us for a couple of weeks while their mom is out of state with the National Guard, so it was a bit more of a production for us to participate, but the kids were motivated so we did it.  It was Quinn's first time biking to school since he learned how to ride last summer, so he was really proud of himself, and I was impressed that he had no problem doing the nearly two mile route.  Our youngest guest doesn't bike yet, but she took her scooter about a third of the way before that became too much and we packed her up into the bike trailer for the rest of the trip.  It was a lot of fun, and definitely something worth making the effort to do again.

This got me thinking, though, about one of the choices I make that diverges from the norm in parenting circles nowadays:

I prefer not to wear a bike helmet.  I hate them.  I have a nice one, and I do wear it when I know I will be using busy streets or I'm participating in an event where it's required, but otherwise?  No thanks.  And when just biking around the neighborhood?  I don't make my kids wear them either.

The Amazing Milwaukee Race On Bikes 2!

This was the second year for The Amazing Milwaukee Race On Bikes.  My husband and I (team name: The Slow Spokes) biked it together both times, and this year was much more fun.  Last year was grueling, and we were proud simply to finish.  This year they worked out some of the bugs, shortened the courses to more manageable lengths, and there were no giant cloudbursts to contend with.

I was not optimistic going in.  Not that we ever train for such events, but normally I swim almost every day and I try to be active where I can, and the two weeks prior to the race were like an anti-training campaign.  If I were trying to hurt my chances of doing well in a 15 mile bike race, I couldn't have come up with a better routine than one of sitting in a nursing home with my dad and subsisting on Twizzlers, bagels, takeout, and pie.  I got little sleep, drove the whole day before to get into town to do the race, and didn't even know where my tire pump was until an hour before we left.  I did not like our chances.

So how did the anti-training campaign work out?

Catching Up: 4th of July, Growing Things, and a Sparkle Cello Conundrum

I am behind.  On just.... everything.

At least here on my blog I can catch up with one messy post of odds and ends.  This won't be very coherent, but hey, you get what you pay for.

Part of the reason I haven't had time to write is I have been reading.  I finished Life After Life by Kate Atkinson and really enjoyed it.  It didn't feel like it was over 500 pages, but it sucked up time like it was over 500 pages.  From a writer's point of view it looks like it must have been great fun.  Basically the main character starts her life over each time she dies and we get to see lots of variations on her life story.  I found the whole thing very interesting and wish I could have attended our book club discussion on it.  Excellent book if you're looking for something (and you've already read mine!).

4th of July went well.  The parade in the morning was fun, but I miss marching bands.  We have several lazy bands that get driven on the backs of trucks, and among those are a polka band and a live group backing up an Elvis impersonator (which I used to think was weird and now look forward to every summer more than I can say), but no schools marching.  A lot of schools don't even have bands anymore, though, which makes me sad.  The elementary schools all had marching bands when I was a kid and we loved cheering on Roosevelt School in the parades and hearing the group practice around the neighborhood.  This year's parade did not include giant sausages, but did have Milwaukee's mayor, and I got to shake hands with Senator Tammy Baldwin.  My kids got a moderate candy haul, but the whole idea of candy for 4th of July is still odd to me.  (It's another bizarre thing from "back in my day" that I can tell them about.  No candy being thrown at the 4th of July parade, and knobs you had to turn to change the channel on the TV.  Oooooh.)

Mona got honorable mention for her decorated bike in this year's contest.

This worked out fine because the prize was a bunch of sparkly headbands that she loves.  Her bike was not as flashy as the ones that won, but the amount of fine detail work she did was above and beyond.  She even made a special patriotic helmet for her duct tape eagle.  (I told her it reminded me of a Mexican wrestler and she liked that idea.)

Quinn's flag with exactly 50 stars

Quinn had kind of the opposite experience of last year.  Last July he entered his scooter in the boys' coaster division, but was the only entrant, so he received a trophy and a prize when he scootered across the stage as they called his name.  He was really proud and it was adorable.  This year, having recently learned to ride a bike, he wanted to decorate that instead.  But the bike division started at age seven, so they put him in the trike group.  Well, I don't think anyone even pretends the tiny kids in the trike division decorate their own things, but Quinn did, and his bike looked big and messy by comparison.  He was okay about coming in last, but the problem was they somehow lost his name altogether.  They handed out prizes and then never called his name so he could ride across the stage!  I had to flag people down and ask them between other categories of kids coming up to please let Quinn have his chance to ride his bike up there, and they did.  And then the lady offstage with the consolation prizes gave Quinn a hard time since he didn't have an official "place" in the contest, and I had to explain that he didn't win anything so she should please let him have his stupid bag of plastic crap I don't want in my house marvelous prize.

The Parade of Enduring Freedom

I hope everyone had a great 4th of July!

Ours was lovely, and we got to share the celebrations in our local park with friends who were refugees from the recent power outages in Ohio.  (It may have been 100 degrees here, too, but at least we had central air, lights, and refrigeration.)

We enjoyed the morning parade, which for the first time in our memory did not include any giant sausages running races, but did not lack for candy.  (The consensus among my children was that judges throw the best candy.)  Lots of baton twirlers, most of who were still managing to twirl in the heat despite our park being at the end of the parade route.  We had a cookout in the backyard for dinner and the fireworks in the evening did not disappoint.

But the big event for us this year was the bike decorating contest.

There is a children's parade in the in the middle of the day every 4th of July where kids decorate bikes, trikes, coasters, and buggies and get to go across the main stage at the pavilion and receive prizes.  My daughters have become disillusioned by this in the past few years because it's always apparent that the winners had help from their parents and my kids do everything on their own.  Aden almost didn't enter this year because it seemed hopeless.

But I told her the fun of it is in decorating her bike any way she likes, prizes or no prizes, and she should just have a good time with it.  She would be too self-conscious to decorate her bike for no reason, so this was a great excuse to be creative.  Aden wasn't sure, but got interested when we started buying supplies.  A couple of days before the fourth we went to the store and the kids picked out red, white, and blue streamers and a package of straws that had red and blue sparkly tassels on them.  And Mona found a pinwheel she liked.

I love watching my kids dive into a project.  They set up the whole back deck with scissors and tape and streamers and pipe cleaners and worked on their bikes and Quinn's scooter for many hours despite the heat.  Mona attached her pinwheel to the handlebars so it would spin as her bike moved forward, Aden constructed a small bald eagle out of duct tape, they all found ways to use the streamers and pipe cleaners and tassels.  I was really proud of them.

On the day of the big event we went with the kids to register their bikes and scooter only to encounter the cranky volunteer ladies.  The woman in charge really needs to just give up control to someone who cares at this point, because she's impatient and simply seems annoyed by the whole thing.  She was dismissive last year when the kids were on stage, and this year she actually opened the event by saying, "Welcome to the children's parade of coasters, buggies, and whatever else there is.  It's very hot so let's just get through this as quickly as possible."  Hooray, Happy 4th to you too!

But the first cranky volunteer lady looked at Mona's bike when it was our turn to sign her in and asked, "Where is the theme?"  Theme?  "Yes, the theme this year is Enduring Freedom.  Where is her theme?"  Well, good grief.  I'd never seen mention of a theme anywhere in all the years we've been going to the park for 4th of July.  Everyone's bikes were decorated in red, white, and blue.  They are always decorated in red, white, and blue.  (Except the first year my girls entered and they bought stuff in tropical colors and added dozens of small plastic snakes to their bikes, because why not?  Now they at least get the patriotic slant of the event, but personally I miss the snakes.)

Enduring Freedom indeed.  I looked at the lady and said, "Mona had freedom to do her bike completely on her own without any help at all and it is my hope that that kind of freedom endures."  Whatever.  They gave her a number and put her bike in line with the other bikes all decked out in red, white, and blue to await judging. 

Aden's bike somehow escaped that kind of initial scrutiny, and Quinn was on the fence about whether he wanted to enter his scooter.  He'd done his minimal decorating all on his own, and it looked like what a five year old boy would do by himself and he was unsure about having it be judged.  And who can blame him, because look at the other entry in the coaster competition:

That's Quinn's scooter in front with its couple of tassels and streamers taped on, and the wagon behind it is decked out with American flags dragging on the ground and the sign attached to them says "Enduring Freedom" so they apparently got the theme memo.  But which kid do you think did his own work?  Anyway, they divide all the categories into boys and girls, and Quinn turned out to be the only boy in the coaster category this year.  The only one. 

So he scooted across the stage and picked up a trophy for first place.

Not bad for just showing up!

It was hilarious.  And adorable.  Despite the cranky volunteer lady whining into the microphone and mispronouncing his name and rushing through everything.  Quinn got a trophy and a ribbon and a Hot Wheels loop-the-loop toy.  It was great.

Aden and her eagle

But the really exciting thing was that this year, all the bikes in the girls' division looked like they had been done by the kids themselves.  There were some elaborate entries on the boys' side that gave me doubts, but not among the girls.  And Aden won second place!  Mona received honorable mention.  We were really proud of both of them, and Aden looked pleased to know that on a level playing field she could do well.

Mona fussed that if she'd only known the theme she might have had a better chance in the judging, but I really can't imagine what she would have done differently.  All the kids in the parade got a certificate and a toy and it's just for fun.  I don't want her to take it seriously.  I just want her to enjoy her Enduring Freedom to do what she does.  Her theme should always be 'Mona' and she will be mentioned honorably her whole life long.

Bikes, Elvis, and a Whole Lot of Flags (Babble)

I love my country, and I’m glad to be an American, but when I write things like this, and this, and this, I know there are people who would doubt my patriotism.  I don’t care.  Part of why I love this country is I am allowed to voice criticism of it and admit to discomfort with certain elements.  I don’t have to be anyone’s idea of a traditional American in order to be a real one.

But one of the ways I am almost ridiculously traditional is in my love of the 4th of July (even if I don’t own a flag).  It’s a terrific holiday.  A national event to commemorate the signing of a powerful document; not a date about war, or a specific person, or a religion, but of an idea.  About beginning something new and daring that has evolved and grown into something remarkable.  Plus it comes with ice cream and fireworks.  It’s awesome.

The wonderful thing about 4th of July in Milwaukee is that in our own local park within easy walking distance of our house there are events all day.  It begins with a parade and ends with fireworks, and in between there is a doughnut eating contest and dog dancing and buggy decorating and children’s races and clowns and a talent show and more things than we ever get to.  And the beauty of it is it’s all corny and done without a trace of irony.  It’s genuine and it’s fun and everything you ever pictured a traditional 4th of July celebration should be.

(List of park events)

We’ve lived in our neighborhood long enough that we’ve come to expect particular things from the parade.

Regular features include the antique cars:

Soldiers (some with noisy guns):

Elvis:

Accordions:

What my husband refers to as the lazy band:

And many baton twirlers of varying ages, politicians throwing candy, and of course the giant sausages.  (What, your town doesn’t have giant sausages of different ethnicities running around?  Huh.)  Usually we only get a few of the sausages (who run races in between innings at the baseball games at Miller Park) because I think they spread them out to other neighborhood parades, but this year we got them all.  Mona managed to high five the Mexican one and this Italian guy:

After the parade I managed to lose Quinn in the crowd for about a minute that felt like forever (although not as bad as losing Mona in Central Park a couple of years ago, or both the girls in Ikea, or Mona after the school pasta dinner fund raiser….  Dang, I need to start paying better attention apparently or get tracking chips put in their ears).  Then Quinn and I headed home so he could count his candy.  (He made an adorable chart on the dry erase board of how many Tootsie Rolls he got, versus lollipops and ‘Frooties’ that I didn’t get a picture of in time.)

I love that with Ian home we can accommodate the kids better by splitting up if we need to.  The girls wanted to see the clown show and run the kid races, so they stayed with their dad in the park while Quinn and I walked home.  4th of July is definitely something that is easier with two parents.

After lunch we all headed back to the park to register Aden and Quinn in the bike decorating contest.  (Mona didn’t participate because she uses a scooter, not a bike, and didn’t realize that no one would have cared if she’d entered that instead until it was too late.)  The good things about the bike and trike and buggy decorating contest are that it is adorable, every kid gets some kind of ribbon or certificate and a little prize, and they are excited about getting to be up on the big outdoor stage.  The bad things are that the winners are always kids who obviously had a LOT of help from their parents, and the older people who run the judging are often tired and cranky.  I could totally make the coolest patriotic holiday bike ever, but the contest is not for me, and I’m proud of my kids for doing everything themselves even if they never ever win because the four-year-old’s bike looks like a four-year-old decorated it (because a four-year-old DID).

Here are some of the bikes lined up for judging (with Aden’s front and center, and a mysteriously well-constructed float-like bike just behind hers in the next row):

Quinn looked so proud biking across the stage!  His bike was ranked last but he was pleased to get a ribbon:

Aden paid attention to details like making sure her blue streamers were decorated with exactly 50 stars done in crayon:

But here was the kicker about Aden’s moment to participate in the bike parade:  She was not one of the top three winners, so after those little awards were given out, the lady running things looked wearily at the remaining kids and said something like, “Well, I guess the rest of the girls should just come across the stage.  There’s some kind of consolation prize for you down there somewhere.”  I couldn’t believe it!  And everyone else I talked to who heard it said they couldn’t believe she was so dismissive of all the other kids either.  The event barely qualifies as a competition, it’s purely for fun, so why would you make anyone feel bad?  Good grief.  Luckily Aden was happy with her certificate and some of the little prizes in the consolation bag, but it got both my husband and my neighbor, Julie, saying they really should sign up with the neighborhood association so they can get in there and move some of the crankier people aside during the kids’ events.
After the bike parade we headed home and hung out with some friends and ate a bit of the red-white-and-blue-trifle I made the night before:

It came out pretty!  And it tasted good, but you can’t really mess up berries and whipped cream and cake, and I threw in some pudding somewhere in there too.  (I bought that trifle bowl years ago and I think this is the first time I’ve actually dragged it out to make a trifle in it.  But it was a hit so we’ll probably do it again before the summer is over.)

We had a nice cookout on the deck (that included grilled zucchini which might be my new favorite thing) and then relaxed a little before heading back out to the park to listen to a band on the stage, eat ice cream, then lie on a blanket and watch the fireworks.  In past years a random sampling of my kids at any given time has been sensitive to the noise (which has not always made fireworks a universally popular activity) but they all seem to be over it.  Frankly, I’m over it too.  I used to hate the noise and this year I noticed that it doesn’t bother me anymore.  Quinn sat in my lap and said things like, “That one looked like jewels!  And that one looked like sparkling rain!”

It was an excellent day.  The only thing that might have improved it would have been a nap in there somewhere.  (And not losing Quinn briefly.)  I keep trying to sell my extended family on how much fun 4th of July is in Milwaukee and that it would be the perfect time for a visit, but no takers yet.  I just hope they all had as much fun where they were.  (But I doubt it!)