My latest post at BabyCenter turned out to be pretty good timing, since this week Wyatt decided to ride a bike. You heard that right. My 2.75-year-old BABY told me he was going to ride a two-wheeler with no training wheels. And he did it.

You can tell by my ear-piercing shriek that I was pretty excited. I know it’s kind of bad form to brag on your kids’ accomplishments, but I am so excited for my little man. All he wants in this world is to keep up with his big brother and this is a pretty good way to do so.

Speaking of big bro, Elliott turned 5 this week and got a new bike of his own. He started riding at 3.5, a feat which we (of course) were dazzled by at the time. He’s now a proficient rider and I’m hoping to ride bikes to kindergarten next year, as there is a paved trail between the school and our house.

Which brings me to my shame: my 2.75-year-old rides, my 5-year-old rides, but do I? No. I know how, but my bike’s a piece of crap I bought when I was 18 and I don’t have a helmet. I don’t WANT to wear a helmet, though I know it’s pretty necessary road gear. I feel like a jerk: I have these two awesome kids who want to ride and they are stuck riding laps around our cul-de-sac

I hereby pledge that sometime soon I will make a genuine and real effort at either rehabing my old bike or buying a new one so I can take my kids for some good rides. Seriously. I’m going to do it. Just as soon as I finish this other thing over here…

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