I Can Ride my Bike with No Handlebars

My son wanted a nerf gun for Christmas. That's cool and all, but I don't really do nerf guns. Maybe you notice I ride bikes? I decided that what I wanted to give him was a bike. He grows so fast! This week was a whole makeover - new glasses, new haircut, new bike. He was a whole new man.

At first he didn't love the bike I chose. I thought he could still be satisfied with the simple criteria: two wheels plus pedals. My choice was also in a steel frame, disc brakes, and sora components. It was a deal -- and way too big... and maybe not cool enough? Feeling a little depleted in the value of my choice, I took him back to the bike shop. I was pretty convinced he was going to just return it. I don't even know what we bought.  No idea the type of components, and I would have to go down to the garage to recall the brand. While we were there, his love of bikes revived.

He doesn't know it, and please don't tell him so I can still hold out for some additional chores-in-lieu-of-presents, but this was the perfect gift for Christmas. My child is riding bikes with enthusiasm again! Here's us the next morning getting bagels for breakfast.

She'll Decide When She's Ready

I have long suffered my daughter's indifference towards bikes. Her third birthday party was a bike party, you know, because I planned it. All the kids brought their bikes and rode around in circles at the park. It was a great opportunity for everyone learn osmotically - big hit.

She loved her balance bike. Turns out, she loved it because it was pink. And a thing. To be looked at. Not. To. Be. Ridden.

When I traded the nearly unridden balance bike for a larger version with training wheels the Christmas after she turned 4, she loved it. Because it was purple. And a thing. To be enjoyed for its status as an object.

There was a short stint where she would ride her watermelon trike. This solution was great until I had to push her up hills. And carry it down hills. And across fields with grass. Generally, it was carried more than it was ridden.

This week, we had a conversation where I said to my darling, "Do you know how special you are?"

This is a game we play. She coyly responds, knowing she's about to get her ration of daily love-spoiling, "noo....!? How special?"

I officially announced, "I love you more than my bike."

She was shocked! Her look changed from giggle-game-face to one of classic confusion: "You love me more than your bike?"

Imagine my elation when we got home from the park yesterday and she demanded the training wheels be removed from her bike. She promptly began doing laps up and down the street.

She'll decide when she's ready, and nobody can make her do it before then.

Please note: She won't ride without a helmet, but she was not interested in shoes.