He speeds off down the sidewalk, little two-year-old legs pumping back and forth, gaining traction. His bike propels forward, speeding up with every step. I watch his tiny figure head toward a hill and watch to see if he’ll slow down today.
Not a chance. If anything, he speeds up.
“I’m toming, Ne-ne! I’m toming!” he calls after his older brother. This is quickly followed by shouts of, “I’m running! I’m running!”
We’re on what has quickly (in three days) become our daily walk. We plan this 45 minutes around the weather, because there’s not a chance we’re missing the fresh air or the break from the four walls that have become our sanctuary.
Down the hill in record time Adam descends.
How has he not fallen? I think to myself. And how has he improved so much since Saturday?
Of course I know it’s the daily practice. Of course he’ll keep getting better. By the end of all of this, he’ll drop jaws with his bike handling skills.
On Monday, Nathan slowly looped around the cul-de-sacs at every intersection while Adam and I crawled at a snail’s pace across the street to meet him on the other side. But today is different. Today Nathan must whip around at top speed, and even then, we beat him every time.
“I’m beating you! I’m beating you!” Adam gleefully cheers himself on in what has become his repetitive cadence when excited.
A smile tickles the corner of my mouth. This break always releases the tension that has built up in the previous 18-24 hours.
I know we’re in this for the long haul, which means the bike practice will continue. Adam will become a speed demon, and I’m certain Nathan will switch over to and quickly master his regular pedal bike.
I pause to wonder, what else will these kids champion with so much time for repeated practice?