The Squeaky Wheel

The squeaky wheel gets the grease

Ever heard this saying? Basically meaning that those who complain the loudest get the attention/service. Not always true in the case of me, my daughter, and her bicycle…

Once upon a time there was a 6 year old girl who had a bicycle. She loved this bike even though it wasn’t pink or purple or girly in any way whatsoever. She loved it even though it was second hand and rusted and far from shiny. She loved it for the freedom it provided her and because when she rode her bike, she was in complete control.

This is my Kate. She’s quite an amazing little thing for many reasons but this story focuses on her biking skills. She’s been on the coveted “two-wheeler” for nearly a year and has greatly increased her speed and endurance during this time. She’s able to go impressively far (like the 20km route we did today!) and can navigate hills, ruts, and sharp turns on the trails.

So what’s the issue *every story has got to have a conflict right?! In this case, it was the pedal.

From my view riding behind her I could see for awhile now that her pedal was not pivoting. So as a result, every time the pedal went around, she had to lift her foot off and then put it back to replace the intended action of the pedal spinning. Make sense? If not, go out and check out your pedal, imagine if it turned in the larger sense (to move your bike forward) but not in the smaller intended spin to allow the foot to stay on the pedal during a full circle…hopefully I’ve explained this well enough…back to my story…

Kate is not exactly a whiner but doesn’t let things go unnoticed. She pointed out many times that her pedal was not spinning and each time I gave her the same answer. I would remind her where the grease was and that she could spray it at any time just the same as she greases her chain.

Skip ahead approx. 3 months. As we are biking Kate again complains about her pedal in which I again respond with the directions to how she can fix it. She becomes very upset that I don’t just fix it for her or even remind her to grease it when we are home. According to this 6 year old it is soooooo unfair that no one can help her solve this problem. Then, because she’s brilliant, she decides to take matters into her own hands.

At that moment we were stopped at a stop light waiting for the lights to change. We just happened to be stopped right in front of a auto-repair shop. She asks if they would have grease there and if it would cost more than $4 for her to get some (this is how much money is in her wallet at the moment), of course I tell her there is only one way to find out!

We enter the shop and are greeted by a white haired, grease stained man with a very curious look on his face. Far from tall enough to be seen over the counter she begins to tell the man what is wrong with her bike (and how her mother has not fixed it and never reminds her to fix it herself!) and she explains how it slows her down and she can’t go as fast as she used to and how much harder it is going up hills and how it isn’t safe because if her foot is lifted off the pedal then it takes longer to push the pedal backwards to use her brakes because she doesn’t have a hand break because it broke so her mother simply cut the wire and now all she has are backwards pedalling kind of breaks…..this of course is all said to the man as one sentence and all in one breath.

His reply is that she is to bring the bike in once he opens the big door out front. After a quick spray with some WD-40 and a few chuckles from the other guys working in the garage the pedal is finally fixed. She offers her $4 but the man refuses.

As we left the garage and resumed our ride she was quiet. I asked how the pedal was working and without even acknowledging my question she quickly decided, out loud, that she needed to make that man a thank you card and deliver it to him ASAP before he thought she wasn’t thankful or before he forgot about her.

The moral of the story: the pedal might not have been squeaky (it did make an awful grinding noise when you tried to twirl it though) but the kid sure was squeaky about it. She complained and even cried on a few occasions.  Complaining wasn’t enough to get the pedal fixed though, I don’t believe that the squeaky wheel gets anything – maybe elsewhere in life but not in my house! Eventually Kate took matters into her own hands and got the job done. Not only that but she definitely swelled my heart (and head) a little with her gesture of gratitude. My heart because it’s just so darn sweet when kids are, well, sweet! And my head because that is my kid! I made her and I like to think I’ve played a lead role in teaching her to do things like send thank you cards!

Here’s what the card looked like, we’ll be delivering it tomorrow.

   

 

Weekly Intention Update

Maybe I should stick with wine because I did MUCH better with that intention than I am with this weeks.

I will give myself some credit, I have tried, just not succeeded. What I wanted was a half-ways healthy, moist, and tasty muffin but instead I’ve gotten burnt bottoms, dry, and dense.

I think my biggest problem is that once the muffins are in the oven my mind tends to think the job is done hence, the burnt bottoms -and sometimes tops too!

So I decided we were in need of a success, even if the plans needed to change. *Sometimes we just need to feel like we’ve been successful & accomplished something* Insert: Pizza Rollers!

Thank you Pinterest once again for such a simple & fantastic idea! Here’s the link from the original pin I found: http://www.the-girl-who-ate-everything.com/2012/01/pepperoni-cheese-stick-roll-ups.html

These badboys caught my eye immediately because in my house we LOVE Pillsbury crescent rolls AND we love pizza so why not combine them. Genius!

And since the kids & I are working on our no obligations/no plans week, why not make it an activity for all three of us!

 

We used pizza sauce, shredded cheese, sliced salami and bacon then rolled them up, easy peasy!

 

 

 

 

They were delicious, even as cold leftover snacks! These will definitely be school lunch sandwich alternatives in my kid’s lunch boxes!

For exact instructions you can check out the original link for the exact recipe/instructions.

Tomorrow we are back to muffins, I’ve got a recipe that seems fool proof. Wish me luck!

🙂

LOVE that I’m not the only one!

Dear Diary…

Yes I have a diary and I write in it often. Nothing too special, you know, just my innermost thoughts, feelings, dreams, and aspirations. And of course the darker side of my days, the anger, bitterness, and grudges I sometimes can’t let go of.

I don’t actually write “Dear Diary” and in fact I don’t actually call it a diary. I call it a journal, or sometimes, if my kids are asking me what I’m writing I call it my homework (I know, lying is awful. Just another Bad Mommy Moment…). Basically I use it to talk to myself and I feel no shame in that.

Keeping a diary/journal if often seen as a juvenile task. It is something that young girls do. A place where they write who they’ve got a crush on or which teacher they admire or despise. A place where they keep their secret dreams and hopes along with their biggest fears. But these are all things we experience throughout life, not just as 11 year old girls (or boys!) so why then must we give up this past-time as we age? Well I for one haven’t and don’t think I ever will.

My Father’s Grandmother, whom I never knew, kept a daily log where she wrote about the weather and the daily happenings. What was for dinner, who had a baby, what the sermon was about at church, who came over to play cards, etc. It wasn’t much, just a few short sentences, but it was every single day. I’ve read many of these journals she kept and they amaze me. While reading you don’t get a sense of he personal thoughts, feelings, or opinions (perhaps a reflection of the time/society she lives in) but you do get a glimpse into the life of a growing, hard working family.

I’ve never thrown out any of my journals, although I’ve really wanted to! Sometimes I re-read past books and am overcome with pride in myself and the way I thought as a young dreamer. Or I’ll be embarrassed with the reckless & foolish outlook I had as a naive 14 year old rebel. I’m often moved to tears as I read my accounts of pregnancies & childbirth. So many small details that are so easily forgotten throughout the years and so treasured once recalled.

No matter what feelings are invoked, I treasure my pages of tales & truths that no one else has seen or read and I plan to continue adding to them.

 

**Sometimes a post shows up in my reader that directly reflects one I’ve got in my drafts! This post came up in my Reader this evening and I figured I would finally get around to finishing/publishing my similar post. Glad to read I’m not the only adult who enjoys writing in a journal!  And for the record, you should check out the other posts from Feisty Red Hair, she’s one of my favourite bloggers!