Skip to main content

Wheels!

Do you remember the first time you rode a bike? I do. The nervousness in my tummy, afraid that I'd fall or go too fast and lose control. But more than that, I remember the thrill, the feeling of autonomy and freedom. The "wooo-hooo!"

We bought Hayden a bike for his 4th birthday last July so he could feel the wind in his hair, too. But he wanted no part of it. As in, he refused to even step near the thing, except to have his photo taken on the day he got it. We decorated his red bike with Spider-Man stickers and a Spidey bell to make it more appealing. We let him pick out his own helmet. We bribed him with ice cream! But every attempt to get him to ride ended up with Chris frustrated, me annoyed, and Hayden crying.

So imagine my surprise when a few weeks ago, almost a year after the bike had been shelved in the garage, I looked out the front window and saw my son riding down the sidewalk!

As with every other major milestone -- crawling, walking, potty training -- Hayden had to do this in his own time. But now he can't get enough of that bike. Every day he begs to ride, rain or shine. Yesterday, our little friend across the street came banging on the door, asking those magical words this mommy has waited to hear: "Can Hayden come out and ride bikes?"

And the entire time Hayden and his buddy rode their bikes up and down the sidewalk, even though they were only riding about 500 feet per hour, my big boy yelled "Wooo-hooo!"

Wooo-hooo, indeed, my love.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Ottomania!

I've been spending a lot of time thinking about ottomans. A ridiculous amount of time, actually, given the number of other things I truly should focus my thoughts on. I find, though, that when the world outside gets scary (and scary is a truly relative term these days) I turn to online shopping for things I don't really need. Actually, it's more like online browsing; I rarely purchase. I spend hours searching for, oh, erasable colored gel pens or standing desks or all-natural curly-hair gel or the perfect black sweater. (Yes, these are things I've fixated on over this winter; I still haven't clicked "buy" nor settled on any of them.) This week, it's ottomans. By the way, my girl  BrenĂ©  Brown would call this behavior numbing . I'm okay with that. Because online browsing is way less detrimental (so far) than chain smoking, which is what I'd really like to do when the world is scary. It's a way to escape, to daydream, to focus on things tha...

Grown-up words and what to do about them

We know our children are little sponges who soak up all our words, actions, mannerisms. They are often parrots, but even more often they are fun house mirrors, amplifying and exaggerating our own idiosyncratic behaviors until we cringe, laugh, or hang our heads in shame. Yesterday while cleaning up his toys, Sweet Boy got frustrated trying to put one of his train pieces together. Instead of crying or raging like he would have a few weeks ago, he threw the toy down and yelled, "Oh, fuck it!" Oh. My. Lord. The air was sucked out of the room. We were suspended in time and space, frozen as our eyes met. I took a split second to consider my options: (1) Freak out and yell at him---scare him into never saying it again; (2) Ask him to repeat what he said, because maybe I heard it wrong and I don't want to overreact; (3) Ask where he heard that word, stuff his mouth full of soap, then call the offending child's parent immediately (a la The Christmas Story ); (4) Ignore it so ...

Why I Occupy

I marched in the Occupy Philly protest last Saturday, and I've been trying to find the words to describe it all week. People who know me look puzzled when I tell them, and I've been trying to explain why this movement has taken root in my heart. Last Saturday, for a few brief hours, I stood up to the anxiety, anger, frustration, and fear that has gripped me for the last few years. For a few brief hours, I marched with people who want better for me and you and this entire country, people who may be ideologically different but stand together because they believe there’s still hope for this democracy, that there’s still a chance that our government will take action for the people and not for the corporations that fund their campaigns. There’s a perception that the Occupy Wall Street movement is simply a mob of young, disenfranchised 20-somethings who have nothing better to do than sleep on city sidewalks to disrupt the lives of those of us with jobs. Revolutions are ...