It’s Like Riding a Bike
Spoiler Alert: This post is not about Austin’s cancer. I know, you’re thinking, “Wait a minute! You mean there are other things in the world for Krissy to think about, write about, care about?” Actually, yes. So this one is about riding a bike.
You know how people always say, “It’s just like riding a bike,” meaning that once you’ve done it, it’s so easy to do again? Well, that’s not always the case. And this is not some great metaphor or analogy. I am literally talking about riding a bike.
Braedan learned to ride a two-wheeler without training wheels last summer, when he was just 4. We were all pretty impressed with this accomplishment, especially Braedan himself. I would take him on runs with me, which was great fun for both of us (and way easier than pushing him in the jogging stroller). The only problem was that the bike we bought him was too tall. We knew this was the case, but figured it made sense to buy one he could grow into instead of needing to buy a new one each year. So last summer, when his feet couldn’t reach the ground, Mark or I had to race along behind him and help him stop. He grew pretty accustomed to this and I think it gave him a sense of security knowing that we were there to catch him each time he faltered (again, I mean that literally as well as figuratively).
Who needs a bike when you've got this? May 2008
So now that it’s finally (finally!) showing signs of springtime in Cleveland, we pulled his bike out of the garage, dusted it off and were all set to go. I excitely told him that he’d be able to ride it on his own this year without needing us to stop him every time because he’s so much taller (as evidenced by his pants that keep “shrinking”). He stood over the seat with both feet firmly on the ground while I invoked my dad’s best pre-game coaching speeches. He’d be independent, he was such a big boy, not needing his parents’ help anymore!
To no avail. He refused to even try. “No. I can’t do it. I’ll fall.” We went back and forth, me encouraging, him denying, never getting anywhere.
“But you know how to ride a bike,” I implored. “You did this all last summer. You were great at it.”
Still nothing. So I switched tactics, reminding him that new things were hard for everyone and we all failed in the beginning but that was the only way we ever learned. Do you know how many times Babe Ruth struck out? I wanted to ask but since he doesn’t know who Babe Ruth is and doesn’t even know what striking out means, I dropped that favorite line of high school counselors everywhere.
And then I decided, without really deciding, that it would be wise to shame my child into doing something that scared him: “It was big deal that you could ride your bike when you were four,” I taunted. “But now that you’re five, everyone can ride a two-wheeler.” All the kids are doing it. Is this really the parental wisdom I want to impart? Do it because all your peers are doing it and they might laugh at you if you can’t?
Oh boy. I cleared my head and dropped the subject altogether. We played on the swingset for the rest of the morning and then I pulled them to school in the wagon. But it bothered me. Why wasn’t he willing to try? What is he so afraid of?
I don’t have the answer, no brilliant last paragraph of resolution, no touching description of Braedan zooming down the sidewalk on his big boy bike, waving goodbye over his shoulder. The bike is sitting in the garage, awaiting that moment when he decides, on his own terms, that he’s ready to try again. I know he’ll be able to do it and I know he’ll be thrilled when he does. And I know I’ll watch him proudly and then suddenly turn wistful and think, “Oh, my baby. Why does he have to grow up so fast? Why doesn’t he need me anymore?”
Krissy,
My grandson was very bright kid who could read very young, swing a baseball bat and actually hit the ball far at 2, but when it came to the bike, he refused to try to ride without training wheels – Why? He told us that if it were so safe, they wouldn’t have made helmets! Bright kids don’t always take risks. They think a lot and figure out what could happen! I think Braeden might be putting more thought into it than some kids do! Just a grandmother’s opinion!
We had a similiar situation with Amelia. Her Oma bought her an extremely expensive “Lik-A-Bike” which is a wooden bike without pedals that promotes balance and self-reliance. Last summer when she wanted to ride a bike, Amelia always chose her tricycle. This year we tried to prompt her into riding the Lik-a-Bike but to no avail. I started hauling the tricycle to my mother’s house, to other places that we visited, … and then it snowed so I left it at Ma’s house. Last week, SHE decided that she wanted to ride the bike that her Oma gave her. I spoke to her about being careful; watching out for cars and monitoring her speed and she looked up and said “O.K. Mom I ready.” Some may say it was a power struggle, I say it was Amelia’s way of taking time and making the decision for herself. Good luck.
Try it on grass, less threatening fall. It worked for our guys.
xoxoxo
cdb
Hi Krissy,
What is it with grandmas????
Well, for one thing, you (our children) have taught us a lot.
Added to that, we’re not as close to the situation as you are.
Then there’s always; sometimes we’re just way off base.
But here goes anyway. (We’ve also figured out it worth taking risks)
Maybe, just maybe Braedans fear IS about Austin’s cancer, sort of. (Or not)
I’m pretty sure that you and Mark work overtime at making sure Braedan and Austin get lots of good things from you.
But there must be at least a tiny edge that weights the scale in favor of Austin. (How could it not!)
So maybe Braedan is just excercising his desire for a little extra attention from mom and dad.
Or perhaps he’s looking for a way to identify with what Austin now has to go through all over again. (sort of like riding without those training wheels???)
Then again, it might be that at five he’s really not ready to outgrow needing his mommy. (not just yet, but almost)
Hmmmmm, finally; he might have just been having an off day.
In any case, he’ll probably be back on the bike (sans training wheels) in no time.
In the meantime, I continue to be impressed with how much you give to your family and to us.
Much love and happy spring.
Chris