Since The Deistette’s Little Man (her son for first time readers) moved in shortly after she did a couple of years ago I have felt an enormous amount of pressure in the role of Best Second Daddy Ever, a term he coined knowing that he has a Dad already (who unfortunately for himself lives in Amarillo about 11 hours away and can’t be here for moments like this) and The Little Man not really understanding what the term step-dad means. I’m not sure the title carries much weight since I’m the only second daddy he’s ever had.
Meh… I’ll take what I can get.
My very first act as best second daddy was a very short time after he arrived when I caught him from falling down the stairs from the very top. When he came to live with me he was about four and a half years old. For all intents and purposes… really just a baby still. I mean shit he was still wearing pull up, had to be helped to go to the bathroom, and all kinds of stuff that goes with being a very small, young person.
Since the day he came here he’s hit some pretty big milestones already: graduating to big boy skivvies, reaching beyond a chicken nugget in his diet, first day of pre-school (man I can still he his face pressed against the window to watch me slip out of view down the hallway, leaving him in this unknown place with people he didn’t know… ugh, I hate reliving that day).
Ugh.. ok, so there was also the first day of kindergarten, being able to put his clothes on by himself. Recently he’s learned to pour cereal for himself and we’re getting close to trusting him to brush his teeth by himself.
But today… today was a big one. Admittedly I did not single-handedly pull this one off myself. The Deistette has tried a little on her own to teach him to ride his bike without his training wheels a couple of weeks back and his grandmother, who lives with us, has attempted as well. But today it happened.
Independence. Mobility. Freedom.
Check about this! (another phrase coined by the Little Man)
The day didn’t go without it’s boring parts. We stood several times in the middle of the street having him “feel his balance” as he lifted his feet trying not to teeter over. So we did that little exercise over and over and over again. I have one video of The Deistette pushing him and when she let go I could hear saying “Feel the balance. Feel the balance. I can feel the balance.” Unfortunately on the vid all you hear is: whrrrrrshhsherrhhrwwhherrerrshhsherr whiirrrrshrwrrh. The mic picked up a lot of wind noise.
And the no training wheels lesson didn’t go without it’s “breaking a few eggs to make an omelette” moment. Our last ride came with a pretty hairy wreck. I’ll spare you the screaming and ugly parts from the video but let’s just say The Boy decided to zig when he should have zagged. The Boy got a stiff punch from his handle bars right to his sternum and will probably have a bad bruise. I have minimal scrapes so my battle wounds are nothing compared to his but at least I have proof of my participation in helping The Little Man learn to ride a bike. Yeah, that’s me in the role of Best Second Daddy Ever (flying over a six year old who just wrecked on his bike).
It was AWESOME!