Drumroll, Please.

BoyBob can ride a bike, as of 11:11 this morning.

We have a tradition in our house: whenever we notice it is 11:11, a.m. or p.m., we kiss. But I couldn't kiss the boy today, because he was at that moment, speeding away from me, pedaling his bike for the first time. He is very tall and skinny and looks like one of those little plastic-covered wire toys called "Benders". But no Bender ever made had a smile like that on its face, so I knew it was BoyBob.

We've tried before to get the bike thing going, but no go, unless you wanted tears, frustrations and "I QUITS" (not always on the part of the kid). However, last week, the leader of his summer small group from church called to tell that this week's event was biking, and we said, OK! Today, we took the bike out on the beach, during a very low tide, which left a wide swath of dark, hardpacked sand. I just gave him a push and off he went. Then about 3 starts later, he figured out how to start on his own, and we've got us a bike rider.

Tomorrow is National Ride Bikes with Your Mom/Kid Day; I hope you will celebrate with us.

UPDATE: We rode 3 miles to the pool, BoyBob swam 25 laps, we rode home, he ran around in the yard, went next door and swam laps for another half hour, and wasn't even *tired* at 10. But I was! I'm so happy to be able to ride bikes with my kid This is a lot of what I had in mind in having a kid.