Sunday, we took the training wheels off Bub's bike to begin to teach him to ride alone. (We're slightly late -- he's 6.) That was a big experience for a slow, at-home weekend.
Having kids is so strange because it's becomes so evident that these little day-to-day things that I never before imagined would matter really do. In teaching him to ride his bike alone, I'm teaching him to be independent and am moving him to a place that I have to trust him to go into the world and make the good decisions that I know he can make. In teaching him to make those good decisions, and to be caring and respectful, I'm teaching him to be a good man. In teaching him to talk about feelings (anger, frustration, whatever) instead of yelling at me or others, I'm teaching him to be a good communicator, and so on. (Now, if only I could get the talking instead of yelling thing down, we'd be set.) Having kids is both the best and the scariest thing I've ever done, by far.
As for the bike riding, he's doing well and seems to be getting it down. He's a little afraid of falling, though he hasn't fallen yet. And he needs to work some more on balance, but don't we all?
Today, the sidewalk. Tomorrow, the world.
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