I spent $300 outsourcing a parenting rite of passage. I’d do it again.

I’m going to admit something here that’s probably going to get a lot of parents up in arms: I paid a guy $300 to teach my two kids to ride a bike.

I know that $150 for a bike lesson is exorbitant, and it was one of the reasons I hesitated to do it (or talk about it publicly).

But when I reframed it in my mind as an extremely finite cost for a job I could not do myself, for what will hopefully be a lifetime of family bike rides — I decided I could live with it.

We live in a New York City apartment, so I can’t just send them outside to futz around on their bicycles and figure it out on their own.

My husband and I have schlepped the bikes to a local blacktop a handful of times over the past few summers, and very quickly turned into two very sweaty, grumpy adults with two very sweaty, grumpy kids — kids who still needed training wheels.

Before you ask, yes: we tried the balance bike.

We tried training wheels, and one training wheel slightly lifted, and also a bike trainer handle that was supposed to let us run gracefully behind the bike rather than lurching alongside the tiny rider while holding his waist.

Our vision of helmeted children riding proudly into the sunset after a few spins together was fading with each failed session.

It was clear we needed a different approach.

So I went back to my text messages to dig up the name of the local “bike whisperer,” a 20-something BMXer and bicycle mechanic whom parents turn to when it’s time to suck up their pride and outsource this sacred parenting rite of passage.

Our instructor showed up at the local school basketball court with his BMX bike and a bag of chalk.

He impressed my kids with a few bike tricks and charmed them by writing their names in chalk—calligraphy for my daughter and Minecraft-style block letters for my son.

Then he employed a series of steps that involved removing their pedals, getting them to find their balance, and holding up their bikes by the handlebars while they pedaled furiously into the air.

By the end of their 45-minute lessons, each one was comfortably riding loops around the blacktop and grinning like they had conquered Mt.

This method did not involve running alongside the kids while holding their waists and promising loudly to “not let go!!” More critically, it took the emotional weight out of the situation.

My kids had been airing their frustration on my husband and me, and we on them.

But this new teacher was cool and impartial, and brought a new perspective to the challenge.

Plus, learning to ride a bike is hard.

Just knowing how to ride does not necessarily equip a parent to teach it to a tiny, easily frustrated human being.

Once I acknowledged this and got out of their way, my kids were primed to learn from a pro.

I’m a full-time working parent, and it’s important to me to be involved in my kids’ development and education.

There are lots of things I care deeply about teaching my kids myself.

For some parents, that absolutely involves teaching their kid to ride a two-wheeler.

In fact, some of them might even die on that hill.

For me, the bike lesson was a good reminder that even the most involved parents have their limits, and sometimes it’s better to outsource to an expert.