Then this afternoon, after her nap, I told Ellie to go get her shoes, we were going to go practice bike riding again. There was less sobbing initially this time, though I did bring a hankie in my pocket. And I needed it. It started better than last week, though as usual, the second she thought I'd let go, she'd dump off. She was also fully willing to let me push, versus really putting some mustard into pedaling. But after an hour of back and forth, I called Tim and she proudly showed him how she could pedal ten or so feet on her own. Adam was up from his nap by then, so we threw the bikes in the car and went over to see Gigi and Grizz.
And lo, after another hour, she had the hang of it. I mean, said hour was painful, because as soon as she got close to turning by herself, she'd scream and fall over. If someone other than me deigned to touch her or offer her a piece of advice, also tears. If Adam looked at her, screeching. But she and I banged our hammerheads together and eventually got it (after reminding her that she could always stop, put both feet down and take a deep breath. Or my favorite encouragement, when she'd fall off her bike and cry and say it was stupid, I'd offer to put it into a trash bin for her, which made her so mad that all she could do was get back on and show me!) Isn't it charming how our children are both the best and the worst of us? Sorry Tim - I'm actually the worst.
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