After a few days away, Ian headed out to play with his friends only to discover that they'd both learned to ride their bikes over the weekend. One caught the bug and then following that lead, the other took off, too. So Ian came running home to demand that I remove his training wheels, as well.
I tried to explain that it wasn't that easy. He would need a little practice. Especially since one of his buddies is a full head taller than him and has been practicing for a while. Especially since his other little buddy has the balance of a tightrope walker and the speed-needs of Evil Knieval. Especially since Bee has always been ever so cautious even with the training wheels--going slow, stopping to turn on a corner, relying entirely on the trainers to keep him upright. But he wouldn't hear of it. "I can do it," he said. So we took them off. And I braced myself for the fall and the scraped knee that would usher us back to the days of the kick scooter. Sometimes this one can be a bit of a pansy.
And I'll be darned if that little kid didn't take right off. One quick fall and he hopped up and said, "Oh, I get it now," and he was off. That was it. One fall and he had gravity and balance all figured out. Nutter kid.
A couple attempts later and he realized that a mom-push-start was going to cramp his style, so he asked me to explain how to start and stop on his own. So I explained that he should set up the pedal, balance on the opposite foot, push off with a big pedal, get your other foot in place. And then he did it. He DID it. After one explaination. This kid is so cerebral sometimes it throws me for a loop. A few times he has had to pause before taking off and you can see the gears in his head literally thinking "set up the pedal, balance on the other foot . . . " but he's got it.
And just like that, his punk biker friends turned my baby boy into a demon on wheels kid.