I don’t remember when I learned how to ride a bike. I know that I must have at some point, but I don’t have any clear memories of me wobbling down the street with my mom or dad hanging onto the seat for reassurance. I do remember that my first two wheeler was purple, pink and white. It was called “Miami Miss” (yeah, I don’t get it either) and it had those plastic streamers spewing from the handles. A fine piece of equipment, I rode it into the ground (and the side of the house, and through some bushes and once, spectacularly, into the garage door).
This summer we got Morgan used to being on a two wheeler with training wheels and a hand brake. She was nervous at first and liked to flail one arm out to the side to grab the sleeve of whatever adult that was in close proximity. Now it’s the middle of October, and she’s off down the sidewalk without a backward glance.
Hopefully, we’ll get those training wheels off by the end of the year. I’m sure there’ll be some tears and tantrums involved, but once I’ve pulled myself together, I think she’ll find I’m an effective instructor.
Coever, on the other hand, has firmly refused to give up her tricycle.
I mean look at it! It’s hot pink, it’s got a sweet bell she can ring and best of all, it’s close to the ground. I thought once she saw Morgan having at it around the block, she’d want to get in on the action. Add the other neighborhood kids zooming around and it’s the Tour de France over here. Coever was unimpressed.
The other day, though, she and I were at home having a snack and I suggested that we take her bike out for a bit before Morgan came home. We opened the shed and I spied Morgan’s very first two wheeler with training wheels, curiously named “Sea Star” (what is up with the name selection for girls bikes?).
“Coever, how about we try this big girl bike?” I ask as I hefted it off the wall hook.
She looked at me. She looked at the bike. She looked back at me. “Where’s the bell?” she asked.
Love her priorities.
“Well, this is a big girl bike and instead of a bell, it’s got cool training wheels!” Yeah. I wasn’t buying it much either.
She looked at the bike again, and I half expected her to kick the tires and ask how it handles in wet weather. “Okay,” she said, fastened her helmet and got on.
Coever’s what her pediatrician calls “fun size”; at her 3 year check, she just topped 29 lbs, and most of that is her hair, so I was a little nervous her legs would be strong enough to propel her down the sidewalk. It did take a little gentle hand on her back to get her going, but once she rolling, there was nothing but tire tracks and laughter in her wake.
