Maria has conquered the art of biking!

She is now able to mount the bike by herself and get off the bike by herself.  She must have grown a half-inch over the last two months because that was the crux of the problem earlier.  She couldn’t quite get her foot down to the ground when she stopped the bike without falling over in a heap.  But now when she stops, she is able to get the very top of her foot onto the ground like a ballet dancer’s en pointe and that little move stops her from falling to one side.  And she has mastered the balance of putting one foot on a pedal while jumping on her seat and getting the other foot on the other pedal.  It is the coolest sight ever!

The babes riding away!

I am so proud of that girl. And she loves to bike up the street alone with me far behind her.  She does a great job looking down both sides of the street when she crosses at intersections and she doesn’t have to deal with any crosswalks with lights for a mile (and by that time I have caught up with her – albeit gasping for air). 

Mario wants so badly to catch up with her.  We took his training wheels off yesterday with the hopes that he would just pick up the art of two-wheeled biking.  Wishful thinking.  It is so funny how siblings have incredibly different strengths and weaknesses.  Maria is so good at biking and rock climbing.  Mario, not so much.  Mario is so good at baseball and basketball.  Maria, not so much.  He fretted the entire time we rode and made me bend down to hold the front and back of the bike.  My back screamed in pain when we got home (he did massage it for me though!).  He wasn’t too proud to ask to put his training wheels back on, thank goodness.  I was worried he would not ask because he would think it was a “defeat.”

Maria, forever the cheerleader, immediately zoned in on the potential break-down Mario could have exhibited over the bike.  She wrapped her arm around Mario’s neck, and said “Ahh, buddy, you will get the hang of it. You can do anything!”  Mario responded “I just want to win!”  Maria looked up at me, shook her head and whispered “Oh, Mario, Bo Bario.”