Accidental End to Training Wheels

Sometime mid-afternoon this past Saturday, I promised Cal that I'd take him to "the field" to play some baseball.  He had asked me earlier in the day to do this with him only to receive some disappointing news that we couldn't, that we'd be heading to the beach instead. Not long after telling Cal "no" to baseball, I found Ella asleep alongside Dan on our bed, a clear sign that there'd be no trip to the beach that day.  A run and some baseball with my kid would be a good replacement.  

Cal waited patiently for me while I got my three miles in.  Once home, I found myself once again negotiating with my kid -- I was thinking we'd go to the field near the park in our neighborhood, while Cal was thinking we'd go a little further to the one at his school. I conceded but insisted we ride our bikes there.  Cal agreed.

There was one little problem with this plan -- one of training wheels on Cal's bike had fallen off weeks ago, and one remained.  He's never ridden without them, so he needed both.  Fortunately, we still had the one that had fallen off; unfortunately, despite my best efforts, I could not get it attached securely to his bike.  So I removed the other one and declared that we'd drive there instead.  Bothered by this driving-not-even-a-mile scenario and not wanting him to start first grade unable to ride a bike, I quickly jumped on the opportunity to make a deal with him.

"Cal, you're going to learn how to ride your bike without training wheels," I told him.  "By the end of August."  I don't recall if I volunteered the incentive or if he asked and I agreed, but we made a deal -- if he learns to ride his bike without training wheels by the end of August, I'll buy him a Lego set.

We then climbed into the car and headed to the field to play some baseball.  And just by the way, if it weren't for the learning-to-ride-a-bike thing, I'd be writing about how happy I was to finally play some catch -- legitimate catch -- with Cal.  I was put on earth to be that mom, the one who plays catch with her son.  Anyway...

This morning, Cal was, of course, up, dressed and catching up on baseball news on MLB Network before anyone else was awake in the house.  I think it was either the sound of the door to the garage slamming shut or Ella standing on my side of the bed asking about the location of her beloved "flamingo dress" -- or both -- that got me out of bed.  I headed downstairs, didn't see Cal and just figured he was playing basketball or soft-tossing a baseball to himself in the front yard.  Instead of confirming this like I should have -- the kid is very responsible and trustworthy outside -- I made myself some coffee.

Not long after I had made my way downstairs, Dan did, too.  He asked where Cal was.  I, of course, told him he was out in front but decided it'd be a good idea to confirm this.  So I did.

As soon as I opened the door, Cal, sporting his bike helmet, was scrambling up the two stairs in our garage toward me.

"What are you doing?" I asked him.

He told me that he was trying to learn how to ride his bike.  This melted my heart.  He was listening to me on Saturday.  He was trying already by Sunday.  All on his own.

I told him I'd come out and help him but needed to get dressed first.  In the meantime, Dan, already dressed, made his way outside.

So, while both of us learned how to ride a training-wheel-less bike, neither of us has actually taught a kid to do so, much less a perfectionist kid who expects to be able to do things effortlessly and is not afraid to unleash his frustration on anyone or anything in his sight.  I pictured a lot of pain and suffering for at least three of the Leathermans in August.

When I emerged, now dressed, Dan was pulling a chair out of the garage, apparently setting up to watch Cal from the end of the driveway.  I soon learned that this was at Cal's insistence -- he didn't need help.  Cal was struggling on his bike on this sidewalk.  I tried to jump in and help -- grab the back of the seat?  grab the handlebars?  grab both? -- and failed miserably.  Dan gave it another shot, and I knew a visit to Google was imminent... and necessary.

So I Googled "teach a child to ride a bike" and found a YouTube video that made perfect sense -- get off the pavement, get to a grassy hill and start with learning balance by coasting down that hill.  With this approach, a kid could learn how to ride a bike in as little as two hours and up to several days.  This was how we'd approach it.

It took a little time to get the other Leathermans to buy into this approach, but they did; and while Dan took Ella to her swimming lesson this morning, I took Cal to a nearby popular park that I new had a lot of grassy areas with inclines.  I knew this is where it would all come together.  I was pumped.  My kid would be the learn-in-two-hours kid -- that's how much sense this method made to me.

Turns out, he didn't learn in two hours; but he did make some huge strides in two hours. Sure, five times he serously wanted to quit, and once we were actually packed up and in the car, pulling out of our parking spot.  Twice he threw his helmet and once he kicked his non-performing bike.  And throughout, I encouraged him with phrases like, "you can do this, Cal" and "Mommy and Daddy learned how to ride" and "it's just like when you learned to walk -- it wasn't easy, but you learned!"  I warned him with phrases like, "you're going to fall, and that's okay" and "you have to be moving forward in order to balance -- the faster you go, the easier it'll be."  I incented him with, "if you keep trying to balance your way down the hill, I'll buy you a Lego set today" and "I'll still buy you one once you learn to ride."  And I constantly reminded him of how proud I was of him.  That we were even out there on those grassy inclines was entirely due to his initiative to get started on learning how to ride his bike on his own first thing that morning.  I just planted the seed is all.

The first grassy incline wasn't steep enough, so we found another one that turned out to be perfect... other than that it fed into the first "hole" of the frisbee golf course, which surprisingly had a lot of action this morning.  His first time down, Cal successfully balanced his way to the base of the hill, feet off the ground the whole way.  This was our first glimpse at this method paying off, and I cheered the heck out of him for having done it and ran down to give him a high ten and a huge hug.  I can't remember the last time I was that excited about something.

He started getting ahead of himself, wanting to head to the sidewalk to now try riding and pedalling; but I insisted he do at least balance his way down the hill without falling three times in a row.  That he could repeat it was necessary.  Why three?  It was more than a fluke but not too much to discourage him from even trying a second time.  Plus, I like the number 3.  So he tried again and fell... then again and didn't fall.  We went through a few cycles of this, counting our successes; and eventually he did have three in a row.

"Okay, if you want to go down the hill now and pedal along the way, you can," I told him.

Next thing I knew, we weren't targeting three in a row, we were targeting 30.  Yes, our new goal was 30 balances in a row down the hill (and, incidentally, 30 pushes of the bike back up the hill at the hands of Mommy).  Not sure where this came from but not believing he was yet ready to pedel, I went along with this, tallying his successes along with Cal.  Eight... eleven...

At one point, while we trudged back up the hill, Cal said he could see a leopard in the tire and footprints we were leaving in the grass with all of this.  Such focus.  "The footprints are the spots and the tire marks are the legs," he told me.  I didn't see it.  I mean, I saw it but equated it as much with a leopard as I did batting practice before a baseball game.

... twelve... fourteen...

"I'm thirsty, Mommy," Cal said. "Let's go over there <to the building at the park> to get some water and fill my water bottle.  So we took a break.

... fifteen... eighteen...

"Let's just do twenty, Mommy," Cal concluded at eighteen.  That was fine with me -- afterall, I was originally shooting for three... or maybe a few more than three if I could get it out of him.  Plus, we were more than a couple of hours into it with a trip to Toys 'R Us for a Lego set and to the beach, as promised to Ella, on our horizons.

So we called it a day with a plan to try it again either later that day or sometime this week.  I know we'll get back to it, and I know he'll learn to ride before the end of August. There's a Lego set on the line, an approach to learning that makes sense and a kid who's clearly game for both.