Joy in the Everyday

Yesterday morning my husband had the idea to get some of that big energy out of the kids before they drove us crazy inside the house. After motivating myself to run at 5am, it was a big ask to get me back out the house with 2 toddlers. Begrudgingly I agreed, only to realize he promised everyone a chance to ride their bikes. My youngest is 3 years old, and incredibly independent, but not quite proficient. So that means lots of trying to get her to trust me when I show her an action that she can then repeat. It usually ends with her screaming that it’s her turn, me yelling please let me show you, and both of us basically in tears. Of course, our 4-year-old had mastered bike riding with training wheels almost 2 years ago, because he likes direction and is task oriented. I started to feel anxious about giving my daughter another chance at this even though it has ended badly for both of us every time we try.  

This time I went in with no expectations and just thought I can try and find some joy in this everyday act of teaching someone how to ride a bike. As usual, my daughter and I started off the bike talking about the mechanics of moving her legs up and down on the peddles and she nodded diligently. Then my son and husband took off to the park, and we were tasked to meet them there to play hockey on the basketball court. My daughter surprisingly got on the bike when asked and put her feet in place. She was actually waitng patiently and let me show her how it felt to put pressure on the pedal with her foot. We finally got out of the garage, and that’s when things started to fall apart. She saw a neighbor across the street and started yelling to them that she was riding her bike. Then she could not stop looking and observing all the things around her. This caused her to use the brakes on her bike abruptly multiple times. I don’t think I kept my cool the entire time, but I was able to let her know gently that she did a good job stopping- maybe let’s see what it is like to go. She surprised me next by asking me for help! I took that as a compliment, and we really got into the feeling of me pushing her foot down on the peddle to move. When we arrived at the basketball court where the boys were already playing, my heart leapt a little when she said to me ‘Mommy that was fun!” I started to think maybe she just needed to find her own way with me a little less attached to the outcome and have some fun. I found a tennis ball I picked it up and started throwing them to my son so he could use the hockey stick to hit back. When it was time to leave she was confident in her peddling that I let go of the handlebar a few times. The joy in the everyday sometimes surprises me. Nothing super special, but I can honestly say, I had fun.