Ruff Ryder

Ruff Ryder

I recently got home from a long excursion to Nantucket with our dear friends and their daughters. But according to this (very accurate) post from HuffPo, one should never confuse a family trip with an actual vacation. If the kids come, you’re on a trip. And if you add another family’s insanity to your own, you’re actually on a “special kind of hell trip.” This held true for the majority of the week. Bickering. Whining. Fighting. Complaining. But I will say there were lots of times (even when we weren’t drunk) when there was complete joy. Surfing. Wild flower gathering. Shell collecting. Ice cream eating. And crazy biking. Nantucket is an island that’s best explored on two wheels so we spent most of our time riding ’round town. While the littlest ones got pulled around in Burleys (toted mostly by my jacked friend, Renee), my six year old biked six miles across the island and from one beach to another. She is freakishly skinny and surprised me with her strength, but not her will. It was in these moments of hearing her ring the little bell behind me on the bike path, that I thought, even though I know I am on a trip and not a vacation, I am able to experience some pleasure. Though I didn’t say it in that weird way in my head. When we got home, we busted out our ugly purple unicorn bike with chewed up streamers and I knew it was time for an upgrade, now that we’ve got a lil’ cyclist in the house. This Dutch bike from Veloretti is the epitome of a cool kid bike and the Bananarama shade is perfect for my little blonde pixie. Maybe we can bring it on our next vacation trip. 

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