A couple weeks ago Wyatt broke his balance bike. I don't know how, it's a wooden bike. He's 3. It's not like he was riding a tin can.
And for a couple days, probably even a week or so, he badgered us every day, several times a day, about getting him a new bike, "a blue bike with red on it and stickers, just like Austin." (One of the 4 yr old twins next door) Not having a bike wouldn't be so bad, except that every day multiple times a day, the gaggle of kids in our cul de sac start rounding each other up to play outside. Ride their bikes, swap motorized vehicles, search for bugs, and generally run amok. His scooter just wasn't cutting it. We were told.
So we found ourselves one Saturday running around town trying to find a small enough pedal bike, and his new love of the moment, Ted the Chickie, had to come along for the ride.
Ted the Chickie also found a home in a decorative bird cage, and has been seen hanging from the back of Wyatt's pocket and random door knobs around the house. Sometimes he's accompanied by a plastic Green Lantern guy.
So we got the kid a bike. He'll tell you it's actually a Jeep, that we got him a jeep, and we have to be quick to clear up that no, we did not buy our kid a real live killing-mobile. (A bit extreme, I know, but you're a mom and suddenly you don't like any kind of vehicle that might toss your future teenage son out it's sides.)
I missed the initial ride due to a girls night out, but Caleb informed me it took him all of 10 minutes to get the pedals down. He'd get scared and take his feet off them and just glide like he was used to. He's been out every day, and has got it down. Except for that whole getting on the bike himself thing. He's still too short to properly climb on, but we're working on it. Around dinner time today he was begging to go out and I told him he could, but that I couldn't go outside with him because I was making dinner and he'd have to try himself. He figured out how to use Caleb's car as a balancing board.
(Thanks Liz for the photo!)
We're just proud of the little dude. For as long as he's been able to convey it, he's wanted nothing but to be and do Big Boy things. To be just like his Daddy. He wants to get his tools out and work along side him, he wants to wear work gloves when Daddy does, he wants to go surfing and skiing and ride a skate board.
He often asks me randomly, "Mom, why am I growing bigger every day?" among his other five thousand questions a day. And I never have an answer for that.
I don't know, Wyatt! I wouldn't mind if you slowed down a bit.