Not long ago, I got a phone call from the police.
“Is this Tommy’s family?”
My blood ran cold.
“Tommy was in a bike accident. He’s about to be taken away in an ambulance.”
!!!!
The scene was right around the corner, so I grabbed our emergency bag and sprinted.
There was an ambulance, and two police officers standing in front of it. I think one of them said something to me, but I wasn’t hearing anything at that point. I ran straight for the ambulance.
Then a voice behind me called out, “He’s conscious and he’s calm!”
Um, could you have led with that on the phone?
Inside the ambulance, I found Tommy lying on the stretcher. He was scraped up all over, but nothing looked serious.
The moment I knew he was okay, my own legs gave out. Both calves cramped up at once. I hadn’t run like that since middle school.
People always say, “I thought my heart stopped.” Not me. I thought my heart was going to jump right out of my chest. My pulse was pounding so hard I could feel it in my ears.
A Spectacular Wipeout
Tommy himself isn’t sure what happened. He was riding along, and then he just fell. Hard, apparently. He went flying.
A passerby saw it and kindly called an ambulance. I’m so grateful to them.
As for Tommy, he was in shock. He didn’t cry or talk. He just sat there, frozen, which is probably why everyone around him was so worried.
He was taken to the hospital, had his wounds cleaned and treated, and we went home. I was so relieved it wasn’t worse.
But then the question hit me: Can I really let him get back on that bike?
Tommy Can Ride a Bike
Technically, Tommy is a pretty good rider.
He learned in his last year of kindergarten. After about three practice sessions of 30 minutes each, he was suddenly just… riding.
With his older sisters, the learning process after the training wheels came off dragged on forever. I spent ages hunched over, running behind them and holding the seat. It was a real workout.
Tommy was different. The training wheels actually made pedaling harder for him. So we took them off, and he pushed along with his feet around our block once, then twice… and at some point, he came back around riding like it was nothing.
Wait, what?
He barely fell at all. He was riding smoothly, just like that.
Is it coordination? No, that doesn’t seem to be it. What does it even take to ride a bike? It’s a mystery to me.
“Can Ride” Is Not the Same as “Rides Safely”
What worries me isn’t whether he can operate a bike. It’s whether he can judge a risky situation in the moment.
For example:
- Don’t fly down a narrow sidewalk.
- Manholes are slippery after rain.
- Avoid bumps and curbs when you can.
- Don’t ride right next to a parked car.
- Someone might come out from behind a car, on foot or on a bike.
- When you pass a park, don’t let the urge to play pull your eyes off the road.
That kind of “thinking a few seconds ahead” is still really hard for him.
In fact, when I ride ahead of him, he has rear-ended me more than once. And when we ride past a park? He’s looking at the park and nothing else.
He can ride. But the judgment he needs to ride safely hasn’t caught up yet. That’s the heart of my worry.
If He Couldn’t Ride, I Wouldn’t Be Agonizing Over This
Once kids get to elementary school, they start getting around by bike with their friends. They hop from park to park, or ride over to someone’s house. Everyone goes together on their bikes.
So Tommy started riding to meet friends, too.
Of course I worry. But if he doesn’t ride, he can’t be part of the group.
And honestly, if he couldn’t ride at all, I wouldn’t be facing this dilemma. But he can do it, at least a little. He follows the traffic rules, more or less. So I can’t just say, “It’s too dangerous, so no more biking.”
If I keep him off the bike, he may be safer. But I’d also be taking away his time with friends. He already has so many things that are hard for him. Taking away something he can do just feels wrong.
I’m happy he can ride, of course. But it also means I can’t be there to watch him. What is he doing out there when I’m not looking?
Does anyone make a bike with a built-in analytics dashboard? Something that tells me, “Risky moves today: 3.”
Am I Just Overthinking This?
Sometimes I wonder if I’m worrying too much.
When I look around, plenty of kids on bikes are pretty wobbly. They swerve without warning, look away, ride side by side with their friends. I’m sure they’ll get better as they get older.
If I forget for a second that Tommy is in fifth grade, lots of kids ride just as unsteadily as he does. And they all ride alone.
So maybe I’m overreacting.
But still… why does he fall so much?
This Wasn’t the First Time
This wasn’t his first fall. Honestly, it happens all the time (ha!).
It was the first time the police called me, though.
Until now, I’ve gotten word through other moms who know him, or a call from school with a teacher on the line. Either way, I end up walking into the same scene: Tommy on the ground, surrounded by concerned moms and teachers. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve lived that moment, and how painful it is.
And because he’s big and he falls at speed, the impact is serious. In more ways than one. His injuries are often pretty rough.
So far, it’s only ever been Tommy who gets hurt. But what if he hurts someone else? That thought keeps me up at night. Should I be letting him ride at all?
Does anyone make a bike with automatic braking?
And Then There’s the Helmet Problem
The other thing I struggle with is the helmet.
He won’t wear it.
With how often he falls, he absolutely needs one. But from Tommy’s point of view, there’s nothing good about wearing a helmet. He can’t buckle or unbuckle the strap himself, so once it’s on, it stays on.
Even after he gets off the bike, he’s still wearing it. While playing tag. While playing soccer. While walking into the candy shop.
Of course he hates it. Who wouldn’t?
I once told him, “If you don’t wear your helmet, you can’t ride your bike.”
He still wouldn’t wear it. He’d rather walk than put on the helmet.
And then he loses track of his friends and comes home crying, all by himself. When I see that, I cave. Every time.
Does anyone make an auto-release helmet? One that pops right off as soon as he gets off the bike?
Safety comes first. But if I put safety above everything else, I end up taking away his independence and his time with friends. So once again, I’m stuck.
Kick Scooters Worry Me Even More
Tommy rides a kick scooter, too. And honestly, I think it’s even more dangerous than a bike.
The wheels are small, so every little bump or crack in the road throws him off. Even with a brake, he can’t seem to use it in a pinch, so he just jumps off. And they go faster than you’d think. Hills scare me the most.
That’s why I keep asking him to stick with his bike.
Someday, a Red Sports Car
Tommy loves cars. He has already decided that one day, he’ll drive a red sports car.
It’s good to dream big. But first, he’ll need a driver’s license. He’ll have to read a fair number of kanji. He’ll have to learn the traffic rules and road signs. And, of course, he’ll need the money to buy the car.
It’s a long road ahead.
But for now, Tommy, just ride your bike safely. Please.
