Oh dear. It had to happen at some point, but I didn’t expect it to happen so soon. My daughter is riding her two-wheeler bike without training wheels.
To me, this is as important a milestone as walking. I remember the freedom that riding a bike gave me as a child. I had wheels, and I was going places. I would wander around the neighborhood, which was actually simply a four-block radius from my house. However, it had a forest, a playground, and some great places for bike jumps. I would race around and only occasionally fall off, speeding back to my house to wipe off the blood. Good times.
Last weekend we pulled out last year’s bike again. When my daughter looked like a circus clown on it, I decided to pull out the one we’d inherited from our neighbor. It fit, but it didn’t have training wheels on it. I knew that we didn’t have the time or tools to put them on this week, so I asked her if she could just fiddle around a little on the big bike until we had time for training wheels.
We went for a ride around the neighborhood and the neighbors were thrilled to see her trying the bike. When we got home, she asked me why they seemed so excited. I explained that for many adults, riding a bike means freedom. It’s like a car for kids.
The accolades seemed to make her more persistent. On Monday I held her on the bike. On Tuesday I moved to holding the back of the bike. On Wednesday she practiced balancing with her legs off the bike, and on Thursday morning she practiced turning. Note that I did nothing to help aside from getting rather sore holding the bike: she decided to do this by herself. Yesterday evening we decided to show her dad what she’d learned, and then she decided to try and balance on her own. She did it. Then she did it again and again. We were outside until 9 pm, since she wanted to work on starting the bike by herself.
This is the child who’s always been behind on physical milestones, particularly ones that involve a lot of balance. I’m awed at the ability of preschoolers when they put their mind to something. I’m a little worried too. After all, my daughter has a set of wheels and who knows how far she will go?