Biker Chick

On one of our many doctor visits, Little Banana got tired of Little One reading to her.  So she hit Little One and pushed the book out of Her hands. 
"No thank you, Banana! I am going to give you some space." Little One picked up Her book and walked to another chair. 
"Wow," the doctor remarked. "She didn't even hit her back! She handled that like a grown-up."
I was surprised by the comment.  I wouldn't have noticed, really.  I wouldn't have expected anything else from Little One.  If She had hit back, now that would have caught my attention!
But it was a reminder of what we have noticed with Little One in recent times. 
She is very grown up; She does deal with the littler ones, especially the bananas, with a patience and kindness that is maybe beyond Her years. 
Not always, to be precise about it, but the great majority of the time.  She shares, She gives, She takes care. She helps Banana with her shoes.  She coos and sings to Baby Banana.  She lets it go when Her hair gets pulled, Her drawing gets torn, Her tower crashed.  She lets it go when She sees Her shoes on other little feet, Her special toy in other little arms. 
She is all over helping me out, fetching diapers and burp cloths and cleaning up messes She didn't make without being asked. 
Not always. But often enough that I would call it the norm. 
J and I talked it over, not too long after these current Bananas joined us.  We had thought of waiting for Her birthday.  But instead, one day when She finished Her math practice and the others were sleeping, we led Her into the garage. 
"Little One," I explained, "Daddy and I have noticed that with your sister, and with the kids who come and stay with us, you have been very patient. You have been very good at sharing, and doing a lot of helping."
Little One blushed and nodded.  "Thanks mom."
"Well.  It is very grown-up to share things and to help without being asked."
"I guess so, mom."
"So, Daddy and I think that since you are such a grown-up girl, you should probably have a big girl bike." 
We pulled a sheet to reveal a brand new, two-wheel pink and purple bike with training wheels, and She lit up like a neon light. 
"OH. WOW!" 

Normally this is the kind of thing I pick up at a thrift store.  But this time, we decided to go for the whole shiny-new shebang.  Truly, I think She's earned it. 
J took Her out right away, and She had the hang of it in no time. 

Now She loves to ride whenever She can get an adult to take Her out.  She calls it Her Big-girl bike. 

We would have gotten Her a bike anyways.   It's time. 
But it's nice to have had a way to show our appreciation for Her good decisions, and nice to have a way to reward those choices. It makes it sort of a double-gift for Her; a bike and tangible evidence that Her parents don't take Her for granted. 
And it's a double gift for us, too.  Pride that She is big enough to ride this bike, at seeing Her push the pedals and wobble around corners.  And pride that it's not just Her lengthening legs that make Her such a big girl, but Her widening heart.