Forgive the blurry image.  I tried to screenshot the video taken 11 years ago, when our 3 year old daughter, turning 4 in June, decided today was the day to take off her training wheels.  She has, essentially, never looked back.  She is a thinker, a processor, very different from her more impulsive brother; however, once the decision is made, she is fully committed to seeing her choice through.  The first time I watched the memory, I thought, oh my word, she is so little and brave, and she just went for it.  The second time I watched with the volume up.  Our friend Olivia has always been an amazing cheerleader- this was no different, and her hug at the end is perfect.  However, if you listen very carefully, right before I let go of her bicycle seat as I’m reminding her to just pedal fast and look ahead, you can hear her teeny, tiny voice say, “But Mommy.”  Just once and if you didn’t know to listen for it, you would have missed it altogether with the cheering.  

Yet there it was, “But Mommy” with a little fear and a little panic and, at that moment, I must not have heard her because, well, I pushed her anyway.   And she just pedaled for her life, staying upright, and ultimately coming to a natural stop in a pile of sand as it was before the sweepers had come by.  As I think about the timing of this memory– the snow had truly just melted so she could not have been biking many times that spring WITH her training wheels on before deciding this random Saturday in April would be the day.  

However, she is a second child, and I imagine watching her brother, only a little over a year older than her, take off in the cul- de- sac headed to the pond to fish or Gram and Pop’s house (his only legal destinations in kindergarten) was motivational for her.  In fact, if I could have been in her brain back then, I imagine she made the decision last fall that her “extra” wheels would not stay on for long, come spring, if she could even think that far ahead back then.  

Similarly, I took our 16 year old son to the pediatrician for his yearly physical.  When the nurse came out to call his name, I stood to go in with him.  He turned back to say, “Mom, I’ve got this.  You don’t need to come in this time.”  And I get it.  I do.  I have no real questions to ask about his health or his growth.  He is a big human now at 5’10 and 203 pounds.  But as I sat there in the waiting room, with so many other unanswered questions, it’s as if so many of the “well child” appointments came rushing back all at once.  There was the time during the regular eye exam at 4 years old when he just needed to point out some simple shapes like circle, square, rectangle, and then when it came to the moon shape, or crescent, our young son yelled out boisterously, “And that shape is a cashew.” He had no idea what was so funny when the nurse and I started chuckling.  

Then just a couple of years later, he wanted to tell Dr. Patel about every bird of prey in his working library, which for anyone who knew Carver in preK, Kindergarten, first grade– he was an expert in all birds of prey.  God forbid you mixed up a kestrel with a red tailed hawk. Bald eagles were his specialty. At any point, Dr. Patel could have/ should have cut him off, clearly observing the kid’s intelligence was fine, if not a little too verbal. And now, a decade later, our son was ragebaiting the same pediatrician by telling him that he drinks 4 Redbull a day and skis without a helmet.  For those of you unfamiliar with the term “ragebait”, it means “online content—videos, articles, or posts—deliberately created to provoke anger, outrage, or frustration to drive engagement, such as clicks, shares, and comments.” Only, with our son, it’s just all verbal teasing meant to get a rise out of someone he wishes to irritate, which makes living with him hilarious one moment and infuriating the next.  And I have no real idea if this has transferred to his online behavior. One day someone is going to punch him in the face, but for now, we just hope he outgrows the behavior. 

So the training wheels are off.  For real.  He is driving.  She is driving with friends who have their licenses.  I ironed her first prom dress on our ski tuning bench as we do not have an ironing table. Next level ski race mom. My niece, Ella, just turned 18 and committed to NYU for college, and my other niece heads to high school. I decided over vacation week, for forced family fun, we would all watch Ted Lasso together beginning from Season 1 so we would be ready for the season premiere in August. They love it.  A miracle.  And I love that someone might text from upstairs, “Can we watch an episode of Ted?” And we crowd on the couch with the dog.  Just like Ted, I BELIEVE we will survive these training wheels coming off too.