**Doing a little recycling here... This post is from April 1, 2008.
Ah, spring is finally in the air. The air in my head anyway. Never mind the snowflakes flurrying about this morning. They'll soon go away, right? A few weeks ago, Mr. Macchiato pulled out all of the bikes and got them in order. Double Shot likes to go riding through some rough trails near our home and puts the tires through it. He'll go from bike to bike and last summer did a number on Frappacino's.
Have y'all ever heard that Queen song about bicycles and big bottomed girls making the world go 'round? I haven't heard it in forever but, for some reason, it is in my head.
I have a very nice bike. Don't ask me what it is. I rarely pay attention to such things. I just know it cost a lot. Ha! I guess that makes it a nice bike, huh? Whatever. It is a nice bike though. I got it five years ago and I've ridden it twice. Our neighborhood is full of wicked hills and I'm a big bottomed girl. The two times I rode the bike I dutifully put on my helmet and rode the bike as far as I could up the hill (which was about 20 ft) and then got off and walked my bike up to the top. I don't know much about physics but I do know that I went flying down that hill pretty darn fast. I think I almost broke the sound barrier. It seems to me that the fatter you are the faster you go down hill. It scared me a little. Okay, a lot.
Mr. Macchiato can ride his bike up the hill. He waited for me to get to the top one of the times. He was rolling around on the ground in front of some one's house. He thought he was having a heart attack. I think he's only ridden his bike twice too. Maybe three times. He thinks he's better though because he rode his bike to the top. I'm better because I didn't roll around on the ground for all of creation to see while whining about the burn. So what if I cried, no one saw.
When we were teaching the kids to ride their bikes they all reacted differently.
Double Shot, being the youngest and the boy, took to it pretty quick. He didn't care much for the brakes though. He found it much more fun to just crash the bike into a curb or a bush whenever he wanted to stop. Sometimes he would just jump off of it and let the bike keep going until it stopped on its own. We should own Johnson and Johnson stock. In fact, this very morning he left band-aid wrappers, antibiotic ointment, and hydrogen peroxide strewn about his bathroom floor. He didn't crash on his bike though. He was playing football in the street. And he crashed into a fence in right field catching a ball.
Frappacino, being ever prim and proper, went about it all in typical fashion. A few tears and scrapes but uneventful for the most part. She was sure to color co-ordinate her outfits to her bike and basket. Dollies and stuffed animals were taken for rides with regular stops to pick flowers for Mama. She was always sure to follow the rules and stay within her boundaries.
Chai Tea loved her training wheels. She saw absolutely no reason to remove them... ever. I think they'd still be on her bike today if we hadn't forced the issue. She was the oldest and the last to learn to ride a bike without training wheels. Mr. Macchiato or I would have to run along behind her with our hand on the back of her seat. She would freak out if she thought we weren't holding on. I got good at making it seem as though I was really holding on when I wasn't. One day I was trotting along behind her when she got ahead of me. I thought it was time and exuberantly exclaimed to her, "You're doing it! You are riding your bike ALL BY YOURSELF!!!" She promptly hit a patch of gravel and was pitched over the front of her bike. The face plant was not pretty, she said it was all my fault and she was NEVER going to ride her bike again EVER. She meant it too. It was nearly SIX MONTHS before she would get on her bike again. She wanted me to trot along behind her as before but I refused. She wasn't the only stubborn one in the house! Her Daddy wouldn't help her either. Before we knew it she was zipping up and down the hill in front of our house, all by herself!
Chai Tea didn't believe she could ride a bike. We knew she could. I let go of her and she fell. She got angry with me for letting her go. She blamed me for her fall and then refused to get back on the bike for a long time. When she got ready to get back on the bike she wanted me to hold it for her like before. Only I wouldn't. She finally got on the bike on her own. I don't know if when she first got back on that bike that she believed she could ride it... but she did get to where she was going to try. And she did it. SHE DID IT!
Isn't it funny how God uses our children to teach US? You might think the last paragraph is about me stating that I was right and Chai Tea just didn't believe me. It isn't about that at all. Spiritually, I am my daughter and my walk is that bike.
I don't know where you are or if you can relate, but I need to get back on the bike.