Some of My Close Friends Are Cyclists

My baby brother has decided to throw his hat in the ring for a local political position. I think it's great - he's a young, radical, idealistic guy, but at the same time he's very reasonable, articulate and compassionate. In short - just the kind of person we want in politics. I must admit to a tinge of envy as I'd love to do something political eventually as well.

Anyway, his campaigning efforts are very grassroots. I came up with the idea that we should wear t-shirts with his name on them and attend local neighbourhood events where there are people likely to be sympathetic to his cause.

My brother is a very keen cyclist and part of his platform includes alternatives to car transportation. He does own a car, I think, but I have never seen him drive. In fact, I've never even seen it. He rides his bike everywhere and is active in Critical Mass events held in our city. (For those not familiar, on the last Friday of the month cyclists meet up at some key location and ride together through the streets to raise awareness and encourage biking; it can be controversial among motorists who are caught unaware, since the cyclists "cork" the intersections and prevent traffic from going through until the whole group, often thousands, has gone through.)

While I agree with that platform, and I think cars should be much more careful and more respectful of bikers, I do find some of the self-righteousness a little tiresome. This weekend we were driving down our street and there was a cyclist riding right smack-dab in the middle of the lane. It was a very wide lane and there were no cars parked on the side of the road to avoid, so it was a little bit obnoxious of her. Unphased, we passed her on the left, giving her at least four feet of clearance. We thought we had been quite respectful, so we were rather shocked to see her cursing us in the rearview mirror.

At the intersection she caught up to us and said "You were getting kind of close there." Never one to resist a fight, I had already rolled down my window and come up with a saucy reply. "It's called 'Share the Road'," I said, "not take up the entire road with your bike." Then there was sparring back and forth in which I proclaimed myself a cyclist as well (okay, sort of a white lie, but I did ride my road bike a lot before LM came along) and she told me we weren't using common sense. Sometimes people are far too self-righteous to reason with so I finally just looked away. (Thought of a great come-back two blocks later though.)

A few minutes later I suddenly realised both D and I were wearing our very bright, very large print "Vote Little Brother!" t-shirts. We started laughing until tears rolled down our face, because I'm sure that this crazy woman is probably someone who would absolutely love some of Little Brother's platforms. I called Little Bro to tell him about it, but somehow he didn't find it quite as uproariously funny as I did, so I decided to come here and tell you all instead.

LM is so hard to get to sleep these days. For a while he did well falling asleep for naps with a little patented technique I like to call Baby Bum CPR. But lately that is not working and I came in the other night after being at a community meeting to find a very harried D bouncing him on the ball... apparently he'd been doing it for over an hour. Ugh.

I must admit that despite my earlier posturing, I tried another round of letting him cry in the crib. I was desperate. I feel like I spend half my day convincing him to go down. However I just don't think it works with his personality as he becomes so worked up. So I have made an agreement with him not to do it again. I will let him fuss for a few minutes to see if he goes back down, but no more crying.

He was doing his refusing to sleep again today despite copious eye-rubbing and extreme crankiness. He even refused the breast, which is very unlike him. There is a reason the kid went from below average at birth rather enormous. So I whipped out my wrap and strapped him to my chest. He fussed getting in but then peacefully blew raspberries into my neck and all of sudden just closed his eyes and slept. Feels pretty awesome that all he really needs to soothe him is a big old snuggle with me. Sometimes being a mother makes me feel like I have superpowers.

In other news I have been volunteering for a community organisation that is going through a hiring process for a part-time paid position funded through a municipal grant. The spouse of a board member applied for the position. Okay. Fair enough. But it gets worse. That person also got an interview although only 4 of 80 applicants did, despite a much less qualified resume. And the applicant's spouse was involved in the hiring process - interviewing the other candidates! So when I discovered all these things I had a mini-freakout and started spouting about conflict of interest. Then the people around the table started asking "where do the candidates live? How old are they?" Um, hello people - you can't decide based on that! Human rights legislation anyone? We are a registered society and are dealing with public funds. I think I convinced them that they cannot hire this spouse, but if they decide they will despite my protest I will have to resign.