Road Trippin', Seven Year Old Style

We took the training wheels off the girls' bikes yesterday, and Abra took to it like nobody's business. We weren't sure how she would do, because she is sometimes a physically risk-averse kid, but maybe she's getting over that (she's turned into a pretty good soccer player for example, and has no problem getting into the scrum).

By the end of the first half-hour of practice (which consisted of either Brenna or me running right behind her, hands on shoulders, correcting the wobbles ["Dad, are you getting exercise?"]), Abra pretty much had the hang of it. She biked down the street on her own, with me about 10 yards behind her, running with my arms held up doing the touchdown sign. There was a good bit of wobbling still, to be sure, but by gosh she had it figured out. Here she is on her training wheel-less bike:



Thalia was doggedly determined, too, but at two years younger she still needs some practice. So we worked with her for a while -- she did manage to go a couple yards on her own -- but she was getting frustrated. So I put the training wheels back on her bike, but raised them up so that she can try and balance without them touching the ground. I suspect she will be ditching the training wheels pretty quickly herself.

Anyway, today I told Abra that as long as she told us, she was cleared to ride to the other end of the block and back, without supervision. And soon enough, it'll be time to let her bike to her friend's house a few blocks away. It's her version of car keys -- she's got freedom to ride.

So as soon as she sped off, I started thinking about blind driveways, and street crossings, and skinned knees, and her out on her own out of sight. And I got my first inkling of what I'm gonna be feeling when she's older and really out on her own -- making her own decisions, dealing with other people, driving cars, dealing with life. She's growing up...

Go get 'em, kid.