A girl's first bike is, well, pretty special. I don't remember my first, I don't think, but I did have a bike once with a nice white basket on it, and at some point, my favorite, one with a glittery banana-seat and those u-shaped handlebars. A glorious-looking bike was a thrill to me.
By those standards, Maeve should be very thrilled with her new bike, and I think she is. Seeing her ride it for the first time really made the mother's heart beat hard and sharp in my chest. Like the last tiny bits of my girl that were still a baby just went floating away when she hopped on that bike.
It doesn't help that she's so very tall, she really looks like such an older girl. I know there's still my little baby in there somewhere, but she's becoming harder to see these days.
Until she's angry and upset, telling me that she doesn't love me, then telling me I'm the only one she loves. Then I see my confused, tired little girl again who is still so very, very young. And she crawls up on my lap and cries, and she's all mine again.
But here goes my big girl.