“I can’t believe she doesn’t know how to ride a bike..”
That is the reaction we would get from just about everyone who happened to come across the little tidbit of information that my 10 year old didn’t know how to ride a bike. Not only did she not know, but she absolutely refused to learn.
“That’s just crazy,” they would say. “Why doesn’t she want to learn?”
It’s been this way for years now.
She will go 40 mph down a mountainside on skiis despite having rammed head on into a tree when she was probably 4 years old. No fear to get back up. She will ride on a scooter. A skateboard. She will get on any horse and enjoys not just a leisurely walk. But an all out run.
Yet she won’t get on a bike.
I don’t know if it was the 4th of July neighborhood parade incident years ago that scarred her when she fell and the decorative red, white and blue pipecleaner on the handlebar went clear through her hand ..
Or if she .. for some reason .. has just truly not wanted to learn.
“C’mon…” I used to say. “Everyone knows how to ride a bike. It’s just something you do. It will be fun! We can go together. You have to learn.”
“Not me,” she would reply. “Not unless it’s the law. Is it a law?” she used to ask.
I was getting ready to call the Governor’s office. Who I knew perpiherally through work and who used to live in our modest little neighborhood. I was certain would help me out.
“It is a law, my law.. ” and would say, laughing. “Would it help to have a call from the Governor?”
“No. I’m NOT RIDING A BIKE.”
The Cowboy and I were determined with some lovely downtime for us this week .. that she would learn. And she’s been softening to the idea more and more .. especially since the handsome young boy she often hangs out with now and who lives next door to us rides his bike all the time.
“What do you want to do today,” we asked as she woke on Saturday.
“I want to ride,” she replied.
“Well, if you want to ride the horses later today, you’ve got to first try to ride a bike,” the Cowboy and I said, united.
She didn’t want either of us to help, at least not at first.
The Cowboy tried.
She got off, came back to the porch and said, “I want to do this alone.”
“And two minutes. I’m only going to try for two minutes.”
We left her alone. For awhile. Two minutes came and went and she was down at the end of the Cowboy’s gravel drive still trying. I went to see if I could help.
We went down the road and back. A couple times. The dog in tow ..
“You can do this,” I said. “You just need some momentum. It’s hard to start from a dead stop.”
She actually listened. Didn’t get mad. Didn’t fuss. She tried. And after a few more attempts ..was up and pedaling.
For about 15 feet.
Next try, just a little bit more. And a little bit more. By this time, we were coming back up the drive and nearing the porch.
“Ok.” I tried. “Can we ride the horses now?”
The Cowboy asked if I could see the smile on her face.
I couldn’t. But knowing that made my heart smile.
So did the fact that Sunday morning, when we came back in the house after returning from town, she wasn’t behind us. The Cowboy looked out the window …
“She’s on the bike,” he said.