I'm trying to teach my daughter how to ride a two wheeler. It seems like just yesterday we took out her tricycle and she didn't know how to pedal it.
This is very difficult for me since I have major issues with "letting go". And that is just what you have to do to the bicycle seat once she gathers her balance and energy and pedals off...
She is a whiz at the bike with training wheels. I admire her for just jumping into anything that she loves to do. (Biking, swimming, reading, anything that comes easy for her, she loves...if she has to struggle just a tad...forget it though.)
This weekend I took off ONE training wheel. She's now trying to balance on three wheels. Well, two with a little help.
She's getting it. She can balance for quite a while without the one training wheel hitting the ground.
I watch her in the schoolyard pedalling around and finding her balance atop that bike and I am in awe.
I think by the end of the week she'll be two wheelin' it. If we practice every day.
Thing is, I'm finding it very hard to relax and enjoy the moment. (Once again.)
I can't let go.
I have theses issues with many 'mother-daughter' concepts. Bike riding just magnifies my deal.
Watching her riding that bike with the threat of falling reminds me of all of the crap she'll have to face in her little life. All the falls she'll endure. All the broken pieces she'll have to put back together again for herself.
How do I just watch her from afar? How do I let her fall yet still be strong to help her back up without my heart bleeding all over the place? How will I help her get through? How do I do all this without her seeing how weak I really am?
I watch her riding that bike and I want to scream at the top of my lungs, "NO! Come back! Stay here next to me where you are safe!" But I know that I can't. I know stifling her will only hurt her more than a scraped knee or a broken heart ever will.
But my heart. It hurts so much. Letting go.
Then there's 4 more weeks until school starts. Real school with homework and class bullies. And my class with grades and parent teacher conferences to hold. I'm losing her a little every day as it is...Biking is just one other way.
She's going to HAVE to be more and more independent. I'm going to HAVE to be farther and farther away. I don't think my poor heart will be able to handle it.
I feel her slipping. In her attitude and impatience with me. I hear myself nagging and I hate the sound of my own voice. I can imagine how she hears me. I'm losing her. I'm losing my baby. That little girl I couldn't bond with when she was born. That infant I was waiting to get picked up by her real parents...I couldn't deal with her. I wanted sometimes to be rid of her.
Now I'm losing her little by little and my heart. Aches. Why did I let myself be so sad in the beginning? Why did I wish away the time? How did I ever doubt my feelings for her?
Because I see us now and I am sad. I want that time back. I want that baby back.
But I can't have that baby back. I can just try to relax and enjoy this little girl that is raring to pedal off into the sunset. Because she does always come back to me at the end.
And I can envelope her into my hug and tell her how proud I am of her. Even if my heart is aching on the inside for that baby that is no more. I know the mistakes I've already made as her mother and will continue to make. I understand that we are not perfect and we both will fall and get back up again. I can be strong for her because that is what she needs from me.
Oh, but my heart does ache for that little girl on that bicycle.