We celebrate things in our family: birthdays, anniversaries, job promotions, graduations, Valentine's Day, St. Patrick's Day, and countless other milestones. Once, we even celebrated my half-birthday because, well, what else are you going to do on July 9? I dig these traditions. And I am always up for a party.
So last night was another celebration: Noah learned how to ride a bike. It was a pretty magical evening and my brother has the shin splints to prove it.
Sam ran up and down (and up and down) the road, first with his hand on the seat, then with his hand on his back, until Noah took off on his own. It was a real-live example of parenting: learning how to let go and trust your child, even if you know he will fall down at some point.
Noah also learned to turn, how to pull over when cars were coming and the ever-important stop.
And when a car did drive by, they rolled down their window and yelled joyfully right along with us. It was practically a neighborhood event. I think our redneck roots are rubbing off on a few of our snooty neighbors.
Oh suburbia. You are so delightfully weird.
We even skyped in my dad and he was able to witness the entire event.
Here is a video of how it went down:
And one more, just in case you want to see the personification of joy on a six year old:
I am sorry if I screamed in your ear.
As you can see, he's a pretty stoked kid. And when he left the house last night, he waved good-bye to his bike.
Ah, sweet childhood.