Sunday, January 12, 2014

Biscuit on wheels

Biscuit got a bike for Christmas. He's been able to ride it once. Well, I wouldn't call it RIDING, really. It was more like staring at his feet, talking about how scared he was to fall and wobbling back and forth on the training wheels until he was ready to quit.

Here's what went wrong:

1. Santa's elves assembled the bike, and we didn't check behind them to make sure everything was tight and straight.

2. The training wheels were too high, so he wobbled too much and got scared.

3. Our driveway, our neighbors driveways and our cul-de-sac are all too steep, so Biscuit was either trying to slow down or having to pedal too hard to really get the feel for riding.

4. Despite how I thought it would be, Jeff didn't have as much patience with him as I did (I know, shocking!).

5. It's dark by the time we get home every night, and except for one day, it's rained every weekend day since Christmas.

It started when Jeff took Biscuit out to get a feel for his new bike. I told Jeff to get him situated, and I'd join them a bit later. I went to grab my phone, but the battery was dead. I went for the video camera, but its battery was dead, too. So I grabbed my camera and headed out there, but as soon as I saw Biscuit on his bike, I could tell he wasn't happy.

Is this the face of a happy and excited kid? I think not.

Even though Biscuit has ridden things with pedals before, we could not get him to quit looking at his feet. I kept telling him, "You have to watch where you're going." But it didn't help.

"Watch where you're going."

"Watch where you're going."

"Watch where you're going! The mailbox!"
Then there were the hills. All the driveways on our cul-de-sac slant down toward the street. And the street slants down toward the main neighborhood road. Despite the neighborhood speed limit, people drive WAY too fast, so we definitely wanted to keep Biscuit from going near there.

Then this happened.

Oh, there were tears! He got scuffed up on his palms
and knees, but he was scared more than anything else. 

Jeff was getting frustrated, so I sent him in the house. I wasn't sure how my patience would fare, but I actually stayed very calm, cool and collected.

I got Biscuit's scooter out because I thought it might build his confidence back up. And it did.

But what confuses me is that Biscuit will take his scooter to the top of our neighbors driveway, then come screaming down their driveway, cross the cul-de-sac street and fly into our driveway. So I know he isn't afraid of moving fast under his own power.

It doesn't look like much of a hill, but Biscuit's shirt was
flapping in the wind by the time he rolled into our driveway.

Once I felt like Biscuit was calmer, I talked him into getting back on his bike. I grabbed the back of Biscuit's shirt then made a big fuss about how I was hanging onto him and how he wouldn't fall. One hand on his shirt made a world of difference.

I asked some local friends about area parks with flat bike trails, so as soon as we can get another sunny weekend day, we're going to throw his bike in the back of the car and head out for another try.

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