Plan G

"It's as easy as riding a bicycle."

I've never understood that expression. But then again, I've never had a very positive relationship bicycles. Or tricycles. Or Inchworms. Pretty much anything with wheels, really. I'm not good with wheels. And so, I've been dreading the arrival of that childhood rite of passage: Mastery of the two-wheeler.

Yes, Diva Girl is 8 years old, and does not yet know how to ride a two-wheeler. Possibly a shocking admission for you, until you consider the fact that I'm 35 years old, and I don't know either. Which, when you think about it, probably explains why Diva Girl still can't ride without the training wheels.

It's not that I've actively discouraged Sabrina from learning how to ride. I've just never really encouraged this particular skill. Part of it has been my own prejudice--afterall, I got through childhood just fine without a trusty rolling steed, so is it really all that important that we sit her on some sort of unstable, rolling contraption and shove her out into the world? Money has also been a factor--when you're not bringing in much of an income, bright shiny bicycles tend to be a pretty low priority on the list of ways to spend what little cash you do have (and definitely come after "Scholastic Orders" on that list). But mostly, it's been plain old ineptitude. The simple fact of the matter is, I don't know how to do this.

Solo parents encounter this dilemma more often than you might believe as you look at us and wonder how we manage to do it all. The truth is, sometimes we don't. We're good at covering it up and patching the holes that are left when you're working with one parenting brain and not two, but the truth is, we're not superwomen and we can't do everything. So, sometimes there's a little parenting sleight of hand at work. A diversion here, a distraction there, and you never have to admit that there's an elephant in the livingroom.

Until, of course, the day your daughter hops on and demands to go for a ride.

Then it's time for Plan G. Because while I may not be qualified to teach my daughter to ride a bike (and trust me, I'm not. At least one of my brothers is reading this unsure whether to laugh or cry at the image that idea conjures up), my dad is. Sure, you couldn't prove it by how well I ride, but I've got four older brothers who all successfully mastered the art of the wheel under his tutelage, so I'm hopeful that by the end of this summer Diva Girl will have shed her training wheels on her way to conquering another milestone of childhood*.

Watching my dad assume the traditional posture, bent over in a crouch, one arm straight out, hand clutching the seat, the other hovering, reading to catch her if she falls, my heart swells with love for both of them. For my Diva Girl, who these days seems to race faster and faster towards the world of big kids, and for my dad, who's helping her on her way. He's already done his time at this particular task, but has once again taken up his position running along side the wobbling bike, shouting encouragement and offering a steadying hand when it looks like she might fall. Because he's a parent, and that's what parents do--run alongside, and help steady you over the bumps when you can't do it yourself--even when they're grandparents. Because he loves us.

A part of me wishes that I could teach Brina how to do this myself, that I could be the one to share this quintessential experience of childhood with her, but mostly I'm happy that my dad and my daughter are sharing this. And grateful that we have Plan G to fall back on. Because as long as we have that, I don't think whatever we don't have will be an issue.

*I am in deep denial about how this will change my little big girl's world, offering her up an entirely new world of potential freedom, so let's just not go there, ok?

Comments

The girls managed to learn without me teaching them.

I suppose I could still stay on a bike but I was happy to have someone else do the training.

It's so sweet of your dad to do this - and so lucky for you to have him!

As you know, the Bee is not yet fully-versed in the ways of the two-wheeler, so I feel ya'. The odd thing is that I loved my bike when I was a kid--and rode it everywhere, once I was allowed to. It's hard to figure out how to teach someone to do something that I know how to do well, and can't remember learning. Kudos to your dad (and for you, for asking for his help).

This brought back memories of my dad and my boy a couple of summers ago.. Learning to ride a 2-wheeler... You sure know how to get a girl choked up.. Good for Diva Girl..Growing those wings with such a loving family as the steady wind.

I don't get that "easy as" phrase either.

What a great grandad-daughter bonding activity. :)

Thank goodness for grampa!

Two of my three kids can ride a bike. Only one of them *does*, mind you. The third never did enjoy it, and, at 13, would far rather roller blade. Bikes, she claims, are scary. Which is exactly how I feel about roller blades, as it happens... Seems scary is in the eye of the beholder.

It is a very sweet sentiment for father's day. It makes me miss my dad. I still remember him teaching me to ride my bike. I haven't thought about it for years. thanks for giving me back a little memory

I am also a solo mom.. of a 10 year old boy, and he finally learned to balance on a bike 3 weeks ago...mastering hills and learning to ride on the sidewalk is this month's challenge...I took a lot of heat for not teaching sooner, but sometimes there's only so much patience!