You turn four in a couple of weeks. Several people have commented that you are taller than you were just a few days ago. Your daddy noticed the step stool is no longer needed for hand-washing and teeth brushing. I can hardly breathe when I think about it too long.
A birthday card and check came early. Those skinny legs are too long for the tricycle that was never quite mastered due to lack of a sidewalk by our house. So we went ahead and purchased a big boy bike. I silently promised to take trips to the park more frequently this summer now that both you and Bugaboo are mobile, and there is a summer break for our family from nursing classes.
At the store today, you of course picked the bike with the name "rattlesnake" in the title. All I can think about each day is how I don't want to open the wagon lid ever again and find your beloved backyard snake, and you picked a bike that reminds me of such a nasty creature.Thankfully the sweetness of your Buzz Lightyear helmet balances out the big boy aspects of the snake-bike.
You were so excited to open the box and help Daddy put your bike together. I tried to take lots of pictures, but you shooed me away because you had work to do. I hope someday you realize what a gift it is that you had a daddy who patiently let you "help," never getting frustrated or angry at the bike, the directions or you. That is a rare thing, and I hope you inherit that kindness from him.
I sat on the couch while your little brother fell asleep much too late in the day. I eavesdropped on the kitchen conversation.
"This is gonna be the best bike in the whole world."
"Why is that?"
"Because it is."
I remember four years ago we put your crib together - so how is it possible we are assembling your first bike? (And of course by "we" I actually mean your daddy.) I stressed out back then that nothing matched, and that your nursery would be one of the few that was undecorated. I still stress out about such things, and I know I need to let. it. go. A bedroom theme won't make you a better boy. Or a better man. I stressed out today that you weren't strong enough or coordinated enough to pedal. I worried that somehow I have failed you.
We grabbed pizza after the park, and you drove us almost crazy with your non-stop (and I mean NON-STOP) chatter in the backseat. You inherited that from me, sweet boy. Your brother joined you in the constant "Daddy. Daddy? Daddy! Daddy," and how could we not laugh along with you both? A perfect day.
I don't know when you will get the hang of pedaling and steering. It really doesn't matter thought, does it? You are doing something new every day, and you will figure it out soon enough. Too soon most likely.