(Listening to “Sherry Fraser” by Marcy Playground)

About a week ago, the wife and I decided it was time for Littles to have a pedal bike.  She has been zipping around on her Strider Balance Bike for a while now and we figured this was the next step.  So, we took her to Target to pick out her “big girl bike.”

Picking the bike out was the biggest deal for her and there were a lot of different options.  There was an Anna and Elsa bike from “Frozen,” there was a Disney princess bike, and there was a Lightning McQueen bike.  I knew which bike she was going to pick.  As the dad of two girls, I’ll admit, sometimes Littles and I do things I enjoy like skateboard, snowboard, watch sports, and listen to music, because I want her to be interested in those things so we can do them together.  Even when Littles was a baby, I’d dress her in camouflage, sports team t-shirts, Wonder Woman outfits, and skateboarding shoes, hoping to ignite those interests.  She does like those things, but, somewhere along the line, this girl fell in love with princesses and dresses, so we have fun with those too.    Based on that, I knew which bike she was going to pick.  Princesses it was!  We bought the bike and took it home.

Littles biggest concern may have been getting the princess bike, but my biggest concern was getting her to ride it.  This is where my nerves kicked in.  I want her to like it and I really don’t want her to get hurt.  Call it my protective instincts, I guess.  I worry about the getting hurt part more because I know she’ll eventually enjoy riding a bike.  It’s just something kids learn, like going potty and dressing themselves.  I don’t know many kids that went to college and didn’t know how to ride a bike.  The getting hurt part, well, that’s different.  She’s my little girl and I don’t want to see her get hurt.

All of that aside, I started putting the bike together.  Since she had been cruising around on her balance bike, with ease, we opted to leave the training wheels in the box.  Once we got it put together, I had her sit on it.  The bike is a little bit big for her; she can barely touch the ground while sitting on the seat. Because of that, I figure she’ll have a hard time starting and stopping, but we’ll figure it out.

The time to ride had come, but nature had other plans.  A thunderstorm swept through the area, so we’d have to wait.  So, we did something else she loves to do.  We baked.  Momma got out the ingredients and the ladies made muffins.  Yum!

In typical Colorado fashion, the storm blew through in about 30 minutes.  Now it was time to ride!  Littles put her helmet on and we all took the bike out to the cul-de-sac.  With mom and Tiny looking on, I held the bike in place while Littles got on.  She looked a little uneasy because she couldn’t touch the ground, but I told her that I wouldn’t let go until she said it was okay.  That seemed to reassure her.  At that point, I don’t know who was more nervous, her or me, but she started to pedal and I ran beside her, holding the seat, and making sure she didn’t fall.  We’re rolling around our cul-de-sac, and after about 30 yards, Littles said, “Okay daddy, let go!”  I replied, “Really?” She responded in a serious and concentrating tone, “It’s okay, I think I got it, let go.”  Now, it wasn’t like one of those scenes in the movies where the parent let’s go and the kid rides around like they’ve been doing it for years.  I did let go, but I was right there, running along side her, ready to catch her if she started wobbling; and that’s exactly what she did.  At the end of the cul-de-sac, she had to turn, and she began to wobble.  I was able to grab the seat, telling her she needed to keep pedaling and reminding her to steer just like she does on her strider.  We get back to our original starting point, I held the seat as she came to a stop so she didn’t fall, and she looked at me and said, “Again!”

We got ready for lap number two.  I held her up to start, she climbed on the bike, she started pedaling, and this time, I just let go.  She’s pedaling and steering and I cautiously took a couple of steps back to snap a picture.  She’s doing it all by herself.  She’s smiling and saying, “look at me!” But again, I’m close by to catch her in case she starts to wobble. She navigated the turn at the end of the cul-de-sac, kept on pedaling, and just when she got back to the starting point, she began to slow down and wobble.  As she tried and failed to put her foot on the ground, a look of uncertainty and fear came across her face.  I saw this and caught her before she could tip over.  She said, “Whoa.  That was a close one, daddy.”  I tell her that it was, but that she did it all by herself, she’s a big girl, and I’m proud of her.  She gave me a smile of approval and asked if we can do it again.  This happened a couple of more times and then she asked if she could ride her strider.  We got it out of the garage and she cruised around all by herself.

I don’t know what I expected.  Maybe I did have that Hollywood experience in the back of my mind where the kid just starts riding the bike like an old pro, but I know I wasn’t counting on it.  There’s a lot to learn between pedaling, starting, braking, steering, and stopping.  I tried to think back to when I learned how to ride a bike, but I can’t remember.  She has the balance down and I’m sure the rest will come once she’s a little bigger and with a little practice.  By the end of the summer, I’ll probably be trying to keep up with her.

At bedtime, she’s all tucked in, and she tells me that she really likes her bike and asks if she can ride it again.  I say, “Of course!” and she just smiles in approval.  Overall, it was a successful first day of riding a big girl bike.  She liked it, and she didn’t get hurt.  Plus, I had to “let go” for the first time, and I’m sure it won’t be the last.