Today marked our final Bike Day at preschool, and though I tried to convince Brady to take Isaac's bike (which is actually too small for Isaac anyway), he insisted on his tricycle. Now that decision in and of itself didn't bother me too much; sentimentally speaking, it was the perfect choice since all three of my boys rode it for their respective Bike Days, and in fact, the bumper and handlebars of the trike are still adorned with the paper license plates from each boy's turn around the parking lot behind the school.
However, it proved a challenging selection for Brady in the end because the gears slipped when he tried to pedal, so he couldn't get far, and he certainly couldn't keep up with the kids zooming around the course on their bikes and scooters. His friend James briefly loaned him a scooter, which he loved (and which prompted him to ask when I could get him one of his own), but then he found himself sitting on the curb facing a quandary: should he sit and watch the fun, or work a bit harder and join in?
After mulling the options, he hopped back on the trike and rode it Fred Flintstone style. I could see his brow wrinkled in determination; it's not easy to Fred Flintstone a tricycle that's already too small, after all. He could easily have gotten frustrated and given up as he watched his friends breeze by --and honestly, I wouldn't have blamed him one bit-- but he didn't do that. He pressed on, tackled the challenge, and enjoyed himself despite his circumstances. That's certainly a lesson I should embrace.
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