Two wheels of freedom!

It finally happened - John can ride his bike! They came off months ago, just in time for Mommy to break her ankle and John to lose his bike-balancer for a few months. Then the colder winter weather set in, and we had to wait for spring before we could try again.

It got a little bit tougher after several months without being on a bike, in large part because John seems to have grown another several inches. His bike doesn't really fit him any more, which if you've ever ridden a bike that's too small, you know makes it that much more challenging to get going and stay upright.

Big sister got in on the act; she rode alongside him, then helped him move the pedals a little bit until they were in just the right place to start by himself.

I'm thrilled that John is finally riding his bike; the feeling of freedom that comes with having transportation just a little bit faster than your own two feet is a childhood milestone. For Caroline, it also means Mommy and Daddy might let her go a little farther than just around the block if her little brother comes with her, because there's something less frightening about both of my children riding a couple of blocks down than just my baby girl by herself.

John rides his bike with the same intensity he does just about everything else, and celebrates with the same goofiness of just about everything else, too.

John has joined the big boy club now - I see many hours of summer fun ahead, tearing up the sidewalks in our neighborhood basking in the freedom that comes with riding a bike.

He'll Get It

I find it ironic that the phrase "It's like riding a bicycle!" conveys the ease of doing something. I mean, have you ever tried to teach someone to ride a bicycle?! The important nuance, though, is that the phrase refers to the ease of doing something already learned. The actual learning part - that's much tougher.

Earlier this spring, when Caroline learned to ride her bike without training wheels, it was the ultimate test of my parental patience. I admit - my patience isn't exactly legendary. In fact, it teeters on barely adequate much of the time, especially when it comes to teaching something that requires extra effort by the student even when it's HARD. And when you're eight years old, things are usually HARD.

This past weekend, John decided he was ready to give it a go. The training wheels were coming off, and he was ready to make the move to big man on two wheels.

Look Mom, no training wheels!

Given that John tends to be a little more naturally athletic than Caroline, I thought - this is going to be easy. And I was kind of right. With little more than four runs down the sidewalk with Mommy holding the seat, he was able to stay upright without any assistance as I ran alongside. Victory!!

Yeah... victory, kind of like Mission Accomplished. Too soon... too soon.

Given that it was 106 on our back deck according to our household thermometer, I couldn't manage too many more runs up and down the sidewalk, anyway. I told John I needed a break inside, and we could go out later. I had already promised Caroline a ride together on the trail, so John announced he was going with us. Ummmm... maybe a little more practice, buddy.

So out he went, determined to practice starting, going, and stopping on his own. He could ride on two wheels, for crying out loud. He had already done it, like four or five whole times for at least twenty yards at a time. He's got this thing.

About five minutes later, I looked out the front window to see John standing over his bicycle with a scrunched up face, tears of frustration, and angry clenched fists in the "I'm about to give up" pose. Turns out, starting on your own is a lot more difficult than when Mommy holds the bike upright as you push off. So out I went, ready to help out again.

Hold, push, start... and careen to the left because it isn't as easy as he thought it was. Stop, start over: hold, push, start... and careen to the left, this time out the driveway and into the street. Whoa whoa whoa... one more time, back on the sidewalk: hold, push, start... and again, careen to the left, back into the street, toward the neighbor's driveway... TOWARD THE NEIGHBOR'S CURB STOP JOHN STOP BRAAAAAAAAAAKE!!!!!!!!!!!

Uggggghhhhhh... the first crash is inevitable, and that means so are the first tears. And first scratched knee, first big bruise on the shin, and first realization that you are, in fact, vincible.

So we put the bike away, took a breather, and decided we'd try again another day. Maybe next time it will be more like riding a bicycle.

Wiggle wiggle, tug tug, and then...

Finally!! John FINALLY lost his first tooth!! At school, no less, warranting a visit to the nurse for the tiny plastic tooth case that is the envy of kindergartners everywhere who have yet to lose that first tooth.

Don't get me wrong. I don't think that the age of 5 years, 9 months is late to lose your first tooth. In fact, it strikes me as a little bit early. But John has had this thing going on for several weeks where his two bottom teeth right in the middle front started growing in. Behind his baby teeth. Because they hadn't fallen out yet.

Weird.

What is it with baby teeth that makes me nostalgic? When you think about the biology behind losing teeth, it's frankly a little bit gross. Small piece of calcium, dentrite material, nerve and blood exceeds its "good 'til" date. Rather than making a graceful and painless exit, it hangs on while the small owner sticks (usually) filthy, germy hands into his mouth to wiggle wiggle, tug tug. Eventually, sufficient germ infested manipulation has occurred, and the tooth comes out.

Enter misty eyed nostalgia. Especially for the first lost tooth, I exclaim how big the small person is getting, and talk of the tooth fairy becomes topic #1 at the dinner table. Suddenly it's not about the body expelling a now-useless part, it's about getting paid. Cash money, please.

In this case, my little man is stuck using the pink tooth pillow I made for Caroline because 1) he's kid #2 and kid #2 always gets the short end of the stick, and 2) he was in possession of extra teeth for so long I kept figuring I had one more weekend to get a tooth pillow made. Oops.

I have it on good authority that the pink tooth pillow will still result in cash money.