I Wish I Was "Ridin' Solo!"

Last night, Alyssa and Brooke and I went to the farm to care for the horses and to ride, as per usual.

Bumpy and Beeba were home and kindly agreed to watch Brooke, so even I was able to ride!  Oftentimes, now, with child #2, I have to tend to Brooke while Alyssa rides.  Not that I am jealous.  Or bitter.

(Let me just tell you how fun it is to try to tack up a pony one-handed with a screaming baby trying to escape from her perch on your hip...  It is a whole blog post in itself!)

Back to last night: Alyssa and I were having a relatively peaceful, stress-free time tacking up the ponies sans Brooke.  Alyssa managed to saddle, girth, and even bridle Yankee all by herself, while I tacked up Gabhann (who was pawing furiously in impatience for the whole 7.25  minutes that he was tied).

We led the pony-boys to the arena without serious incident.  (Oftentimes they freak out and nearly maim us as they spook at the flock of birds, which likes to alight noisily from the trees just as we walk past them.)

We even managed to mount up smoothly.  (Oftentimes Yankee will step away while Alyssa is a quarter of the way on, and it will take her 137, give or take 43, attempts to get on by herself because she insists that he stand absolutely statue-like stock still throughout the entire, and as yet for her slow and graceless, maneuver.)

So, we were having quite a lovely time by all accounts!  The weather was nice.  The ponies were reasonably well-behaved.  We were Brooke-free.  Life was good.  We even did some tandem cantering, which is a new gait for Alyssa.  It was A-dorable, trust me.

Then, Alyssa got off to do something...I do not know, maybe to tie her boot or pick a dandelion...  Yankee assumed that he was finished and on his way to get his treat for having a "gold star" ride, I suppose.  So, you can imagine his surprise and chagrin when, seconds later, Alyssa got back onboard.

He was not a happy camper.  He began to toss his head dramatically and almost continuously.  I tried to give Alyssa solutions for this annoyance from the back of Gabhann (who was particularly angelic, thank God!).  Nothing was working.  Truth is, a horse is just a horse:  If he wants to throw is head, ain(apostrophe)t nothin(apostrophe) a 50 pound little rider is really going to do about it.

Alyssa began to get really mad at him, shouting things like, "Oh, you are SO not getting a treat now!"  (Oh, the horror!)

My peaceful evening of riding-with-just-one-child-in-tow turned sour very quickly.

Do not get me wrong:  I love watching Alyssa learn to ride.  I love how much she (usually) enjoys Yankee.  I love to spend time alone with her.

I love my children.  I really, truly, painfully love them.  But, oh, what I would give to be "ridin solo"* once again.  At least just every once in a while...

*Did you ever hear that song by Jason DeRulo?  "Ridin Solo?"  It is the official soundtrack of all of Alyssa(apostrophe)s and my less-than-ideal rides.