Look Mama No Training Wheels!

Anya has been wanting to learn to ride a bike without training wheels for a looooonnnnng time.  I can't even remember a day of bike riding without her incessant pestering to "PUH-LEASE" take off her training wheels.  I'll admit, I'd been dragging my heels.  I knew I was in for a lot of work, and I wasn't ready yet.

Teaching Anya is...well...teaching Anya....*sigh*....I'm not sure anyone can actually teach Anya anything.  No matter how hard I try, or what method I use she either seems to accidentally absorb the information, you are trying to teach her, or she doesn't.  End of story.  It's not rebellion, it's just the way she is.  The strange thing is that she is usually equally happy with either result.  I knew somehow this was going to be different.  She wanted to learn, she neeeeeeeded to learn and not doing so would NOT be okay!

 So I took a deep breath, pulled out the wrench and removed those training wheels, muttering under my breath all the while. *great parenting - I know*  As soon as the wheels were off, she hopped on and adjusted her helmet.  I held onto the back of her seat and gave her a little nudge.  She forgot, unfortunately, that she was in control of her bike and we ran off the sidewalk nearly missing the neighbors tree.

I explained that she still needed steer as well as pedal, and things would go much smoother.  She hopped back on, I grabbed her seat and she began to steer like a pro.  However, she just let her legs dangle limply instead of using them to pedal.  "You're doing great", I said.  "Are you sure you know how to teach people how to ride bikes?" she replied.  *mutter, mutter, mutter*

"Okay, you're gonna get it, hop back on and this time try to use your arms and your legs together". I try pathetically to encourage her.  Because, really, I don't think she's gonna get it.  I felt terrible, but I had no faith in either my ability to teach, or her ability to learn at that point.  She then got back on her bike, turned her face to mine and smiled sweetly.  I'm expecting a heartfelt "Thanks for helping me", but instead I hear, "Mom, I really think I could do this better on my own.  I don't think you know what you are doing."  I had to laugh.  She's right.  I have no idea what I am doing.  So I let go.  And she rode her bike.

It turns out she wasn't the one that needed to be taught.  It was me that needed to let go.