The kids also expressed their displeasure with the whole process.
So, last week, I brought them to physical therapists, paid over $500, and let the experts teach my uncoordinated kids - with their complete lack of fine and large motor skills - to ride two-wheeled bikes. (Don't judge! Okay, fine, judge. But just know it was worth EVERY SINGLE PENNY.)
It worked. We have (insanely expensive) bike riders!
After assessing their progress, the younger child got limits. He has epilepsy, so he cannot ride without a buddy along. He must ask first. No in the road yet without an adult, since he ignores cars. (Thankfully, we live at the end of a dead end road with almost no traffic.) He can only ride to and from the dead end and back to our house.
The epilepsy diagnosis made these rules reasonable.
But the older kid is riding so well and watching for cars, so he got different limits. He can go halfway up and down the street (still only about 0.2 miles), visit with neighbor kids in the front yard only, and go out by himself as long as he tells me he is going outside.
I watched him test the rules. He followed them closely. He is a very responsible, obedient kid.
Watching him, always in view of my house, freaked me out.
I thought I'd be the cool parent. "Ride to the park," I'd say. "Be inside before the streetlights," I'd urged. And then I would disappear, to take a nap or watch Netflix without a care.
Instead, I'm ruining my blinds trying to peek out the window. I'm thinking of setting the alarm on his watch for him to check back every
Instead of allowing him to roam the neighborhood and explore, like I did as a kid, I want to tie him to the house.
Instead of free range parenting, which sounds deliciously compelling in theory, I want to helicopter parent. My nature screams for it.
It will get better with time, right? In the meantime, how upset would my husband be if I cut a peephole into the window shades?
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