i’ve learned there are things you have to do when you live with only boys that i didn’t know i’d have to do.
when i found out i wasn’t having a girl (which i had convinced myself there was no way i was not having a girl due to my ever so strong ‘mother’s intuition’) my thoughts of dance recitals and dolls quickly switched to trucks and mud. yes, yes, i get that gender has nothing to do with these things but i’ll be brave and admit that’s what i thought. this kid is 1000% free to be who he wants and he was still smashing cars and chasing the cat with the balloon bat as soon as he had the dexterity to do so… so i’ll skip all this and just say – he’s into things i wasn’t as a child and because of this i’ve had to learn a whole bunch of new skills and nuances of this traditionally ‘male’ world i’ve never been privy to.
one of these worlds is biking. more specifically – mountain biking. up until this year (he’s 9 now) i’ve done bike rides the way i did as a kid and as a young adult trying to be adorable on my vintage-looking bike, in my cute skirts and dresses. riding a bike was as much a thing to do as it was a cute way to be seen.
i mean, look at that bike – it’s fricking adorable. and that basket, so practical.
anyway, what started out as street riding soon became little dirt path offshoots – which then became too much for my vintage ride. so i had to get a mountain bike.
which then turned into pads, helmets, shorts, backpacks with water hoses. the whole thing is a far cry from my cute bike days.
but. i will say – despite the total dork look that comes with bad ass trail riding – the street cred i gained from my son is beyond worth it. i still get razzel for not ‘doing jumps’ and ‘getting air’ but i can navigate the woods reasonably and i know he’s proud of his momma.