Bicycle Training

How do you teach your child how to ride a bike? CALL YOUR FATHER! (not joking). YUP, as with everything, kids take direction from other people more than their parents (next thing you know, there will be “bike riding consultants” for children in NYC….if there aren’t already…).  So happy that my papa taught C how to ride a bike in three days!

Granted, most non-city-dwellers learn how to ride a bike when they are 3 or 4….but if you live in the city, especially New York City (a big gigantic grid of traffic, congestion, and people), bike riding often starts later.  I know, I know…compared to my brother’s kids we are late bloomers….but my kids will know how to smoke a cigarette, go to clubs, and underage drink waaaaaaay before their cousins (half joking, OMG, I am petrified of raising kids in the big bad city!)

The bike. As silly as it sounds, we got a bike for Cruzzie that he was interested in.

And of course, he had to accessorize it (or me…same thing). A SHARK HORN!

In any case, this past weekend my dad taught Cruzzie how to ride a bike! Three days!

Some people swear by balance bikes, but Cruzzie just wasn’t into it. So last summer, we opted for training wheels. It is key to put them on super uneven and wiggly so that they learn how to balance. In this picture, it is the last day of training wheels, and we are headed down to the bike path to learn how to bike!

Steps to becoming a big boy: he had to use a wrench to take off the training wheels himself (obviously, this was done by my dad because I am such a pushover that I would have done it for him myself).

Day 1. Wobbly. Tata was a saint running behind him and holding him.

After day 1, my dad said that he needed to find some type of stick to attach to the bike to make it easier. So, after we hiked the Butte (both kids up the mountain and down by themselves… this post is full of #humblebrags), my dad found the perfect stick.

He rammed it into the back of the bike and it made it easy for him to guide, and a little less steady for Cruzzie, which forced him to learn how to balance.

I worked hard by cheering them on from the cool shade.

And just like that, he learned! The very next day, we removed the stick and voila, a bike rider! My dad’s piece of advice: BE FIRM! (Hence the reason he was the teacher and not myself).

Tata and his student.

Proud Mama — proud of my papa, and proud of my son!

Off he goes!

Smiles all around.

The bike is a Raleigh, the horn is a Shark, the bike helmet is a Nutcase, the short shorts are from Stanford. And here we are, now riding a bike! Can’t wait for our many bike rides and excursions! Thank you, Papa!