Finally getting to ride the bike Santa brought for her
Today Autumn got on her bike for the first time. She’s been lamenting the constant snow since December and couldn’t wait to make use of the bell and kicky pink streamers.
As Autumn sat down on the seat, she was reminded of the exact same bike at Costco with the unsecured training wheel. She had tipped over and wound up with several pounds of princess bike pinning her to the floor and was afraid the same thing would happen again.
She wanted the to ride the scooter instead, but I assured her daddy, err Santa, made sure the training wheels on the bike were tight. That seemed to placate her and she got back on.
Riding a bike is not an innate skill, and even though Autumn has ridden on tricycles, bigwheels and the like, she had never ridden a bike that brakes when you ratchet your feet backward. She had a very hard time of it and could not maintain a steady pace because with every push forward she would also push back and stop herself.
We were only a few houses down the street when she decided to give up. “This is too hard,” she cried. “I want to go back home and get my scooter.”
At first I wanted to let her go back. Home was only a couple hundred feet away and the scooter would probably have made her feel safer. She was experiencing frustration and a sense of failure because she couldn’t process what Nathan and I were telling her about those pesky brakes.
“I know this is hard, but I know you can do this. You’re a smart girl so don’t give up,” I said.
“Okay…,” she said and reluctantly hopped back on the bike.
Again with the brakes and the frustration. I bent down grabbed hold of her feet, trying to keep them moving forward instead of backward.
And she got it. It took awhile, but she finally figured out how to pedal that dang bike.
“I’m doing it!” she cried. “And I didn’t give up!”
Oh, my heart. It swelled.
I have to tell you, yesterday, the day before this ride, I had one of my worst parenting experiences ever. It was one of those things that left me feeling broken and completely unequipped to raise another human being. As much as my daughter can fill me with pride, she’s also capable of bringing out the worst in me and I was not up to the challenges she put before me.
But today I challenged her and she rose to it. I didn’t let her quit and she felt the kind of rush I wish I’d felt yesterday had I been able to press on through a difficult situation and not fall apart.
Today I felt as though I did something right and that the scales tipped back in my favor.
Then again, I also taught her what the word “wedgie” means and she used it properly when the bike seat bunched her pants back up into parts unknown. So my victory may not carry that much weight after all.
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