The husband just took the training wheels off of F’s bike this morning. Mind you, F never really needed the training wheels as he’d already learned how to balance on two wheels with his “balance bike” as a toddler. But this morning, as sun cast gorgeous light over Seattle, we realized there were 2 days left of summer here in the Pacific Northwest. So, my dear husband proclaimed it was time.

Thing is, the training wheels have been on for me. I’m terrified of that bike. I worry about speed, my loss of control over major injuries and big falls for my little boy, and I worry about the greater transition to him biking off and away from home. Remember when he got the bike in July? Well, I admit it, I’m scared of it. And even though the training wheels never really govern F’s speed or his decisions, they have been a great security blanket for me.

Helicopter parent, you betcha.

I really don’t care what you call me. Okay, I do on some level, please be nice. But know I have distaste for the labeling of parenting “styles” and decision-making. Particularly when it enters the research world. I hated the media blitz earlier this month about the study describing the risks surrounding “helicopter parents” and obesity. I mean, come on. All this categorizing doesn’t really help us. I may be “helicopter” with this decision and then absent-minded-laissez-faire with another. You, too?

Please wish me luck. F doesn’t need the luck, of course; part of me knows he’ll do very well and make good decisions. We’re having our dry run, sans the 3rd and 4th wheel, around 5pm today.

What about you? Was it a no-brainer to shed the training wheels? Tell me your tips on how to make this better (for both of us).

I know as the boys get older the ante is only uped. Read this post by The Teen Doc where she talks about keeping your hands on your lap while watching the accident happen. Phew. Thank goodness I have 11 more years to prepare.