Wednesday, April 1, 2015

Lean On Me

Dear Ian,

Perfect yoga form, with drool
You, my boy, have always had a crazy independent streak.  You like to do things at your pace, when you are dang well ready, and usually with little preamble.  You just sorta "up and go."  When you first crawled, you set the stage for how you were going to hit physical development milestones.  You were six months old when you first became mobile, and you didn't do the typical rock-back-and-forth thing.  You spent exactly one day doing the plank yoga position, and then you spent a day moving backwards.  You took a small break from mobility and movement for a bit, but then one day, you got in crawling position, looked over your shoulder at me, and took off across the living room. Walking followed the same pattern.  You took exactly one day to get the general idea, and then the next, you were strolling around here like you owned the place. 

This week you launched yourself full steam ahead into another form of mobility.  Last Christmas, well the one from 2013 anyway, you got your very own two wheeler bike!  It technically had four wheels with the training wheels on it, but you were so proud!  You had wheeled transportation!  You were only four, but you were off to the races, pedaling around the cul-de-sac, requesting me to walk with you so you could ride around the neighborhood.  You LOVED your new bike, and it was neat to see you hop on and pedal away.  Fast forward to three days ago.  We were outside playing, and I noticed that your tires on your bike were low.  I got the little air compressor out and filled them up, and while I was working on your tires, you said, "I don't think I need my training wheels anymore, Mommy."  I asked if you were sure, and you confidently responded with a "yes."  You even went and got the wrench yourself, so I did as you requested and took your training wheels off your bike. 

A few months back we tried to take your training wheels off, and it didn't really work out so hot, so I was completely prepared to have to help you get started.  To be honest, I was sorta even getting ready to put the supporting wheels back on, too.  But you, my boy, in typical Ian form, hopped on your bike and zoomed away.  You looked like you had been doing it for years.  It just amazes me how things just "click" with you.  You'll give it a try, struggle a bit, take a small break and then come back and have the problem worked out and basically mastered.  I have no idea what goes on in your little noggin during the break as you sort things out, but it just blows my mind.

 Here are a few more pictures I snagged from your inaugural two-wheeled ride:

Yes, yes.  You do have a bike helmet, and yes, you do wear it.  This very moment, we didn't have it on.
 You look so confident!
Zooming away from Mom

All of this happened right before I had to teach a lesson, so you spent the entire hour I worked with Madison doing loops around the cul-de-sac and ramping over the obnoxious curb-like lip at the ends of all of the driveways.  I was, and still am, such a proud mom.  Although, I have to admit, I was a little sad.  My boy is growing up so fast and in such leaps and bounds, and typically you follow through with these leaps and bounds all on your own.  With this one, I was sorta hoping that we'd get to help you learn this grown-up skill.  But alas; you had your own ideas, and it was still really neat to be a part of this milestone, even if I was on the sidelines.  And I am seeing a lot of this view as of late:
You, zooming away from me.

Warning: here comes the sappy part.  Next will be watching you walk away from me and into your kindergarten classroom, and then, before I can blink, I will be watching you graduate from high school.  Whoa man.  I'm going to need you slow down just a little, Baby Bear.  I don't think this Mommy's heart can handle all of this.  Part of me wants you to lean on us and need us a little more, but then I stop and think: maybe just knowing that we're there for you and supporting you gives you the confidence to move head-first into anything you decide to pursue.  That makes me feel a little better.  I think.  Or at least, that's what I am telling myself. 

You make me so very proud, and I can't wait to see what you're going to surprise me with next.  Just make sure it's not at warp speed; we'll leave that for how fast you ride your new two-wheeled bike.

I love you,

No comments:

Post a Comment