On a warm summer Saturday on the first of June, we took the training wheels off her Princesses bike, and with my husband’s hand on her back, she wobbled her way down the sidewalk.
Her baby sister lay in wait, watching, bowl-legged walking as fast as her chubby legs would let her after her sister, peddling cautiously, afraid of daddy letting go.
She nervous giggled while her dad’s hands held her, his pace quickened as she sped up slightly.
Turning without training wheels was exceedingly difficult, but she was determined to do this.
She looked up at me and smiled. She had no idea how straight she was, how balanced she was, and that he was letting go.
She neared closer, probably worrying about hitting me, without realizing his fingers were lifting one at a time.
She was slowly peeling away from him, growing faster and more confident with her balancing skills.
And suddenly, our smiles and laughter told the tale. She was doing it without daddy holding on. This was the look of uncertainty, of fear and doubt but excitement as she pedaled on her own. I called this the “Holy crap, I’m really doing it!” face.
Total and complete euphoria.
She grew so confident, she tried to stand to pedal, almost falling. My husband caught her just in time, and they shared a large, belly laugh about it. (So grateful I caught it on camera. Love!)
She. Could. Not. Be. Stopped.