On Saturday, the day before Mother's day, we went on a family bike ride. It was wonderful. It was relaxing...until my husband did something to turn the ride from bike to roller coaster (for me at least). You see, my son is 4 and he's been struggling with us about his training wheels. We want them off, he wants to keep them on. We compromised by putting them up high enough that the only time the they touch the ground is when he turns. But the time had come for a change. Every time he leaned one way or the other the training wheel on that side would grab and the handles would yank him, making him turn unexpectedly. My husband had seen enough and talked Super Dude out of his training wheels with the promise of helping him keep stable by guiding him by the seat. That lasted all of 2 seconds. Next thing I know, Super Dude is halfway down the street all on his own. I clapped and yelled "Good Job!!!" as he headed back towards us. I've never been so proud of and so scared for him at the same time. I was tremendously proud when he crawled at 6 months. I was ecstatic when he walked at 8 1/2 months. But now he's on his own. I can't hold his hand as he tries to steady himself. I can't catch him when he falls down. I don't think I've ever been so terrified as I was following him down the slight hill home. Terrified of him falling down and hurting himself on his first day and never wanting to try again. Mostly terrified of letting him grow up.
Ten Year Doctor Appointment
5 months ago