Like Riding A Bike

I've been teaching Charlotte to ride a two wheeler.  She had the desire and I asked Daniel to teach her, but, well, he's a medical resident so you know who ended up teaching her.  I've also watched her learn to ice skate.  We have also started violin lessons.  Through these experiences I have learned a few things about my daughter.  First, stay positive.  She may complain and throw things and insist she can't or won't do something.  She may scream that I'm not fair.  I have to forever remain positive because as soon as I slip it's like a crack opens up and her frustration flows right in.  Second, be firm.  It is hard to do both numbers one and two together, but that's the only way to urge her forward.

You see, I have a daughter that doesn't naturally like to be out of control.  She doesn't like to plunge into the unknown or race ahead.  Honestly I'm grateful for this attribute in her.  These things can be such a great asset for her, but it does mean she requires a person who doesn't give her wiggle room. Also a person that will always have unyielding confidence in her and her abilities when she isn't sure of herself.

I am so proud of her overcoming her fears and learning to ride her bike.  She was learning how to go downhill Saturday when she crashed.  I was standing at the top of the hill and watched in slow motion her wobble, gain control, wobble, gain control, and wobble out of control until she panicked and crashed.  My heart fell and I was frozen for a few seconds before I realized I was the one that had to help her.  She was bleeding, shaking, and frantic.  She never wanted to get back on that bike.  I never wanted to make her.  She walked her bike back a while, but I had to put my foot down and make her ride.  I stood there, listening to her shrieking, insisting she try all the while wanting to tell her she never had to try again.  I was so proud when she did.

She is so hesitant and I get so used to having to urge her forward, but then I turn around and she's zipping around doing things that I never thought she'd figure out she could.  She can skate backwards, she biked downhill Sunday night.  She can do really hard things.  It happens in the blink of an eye, and I can't figure out when or how it happens, but she suddenly has confidence in herself and joy in those things she was terrified of.

It makes me wonder about those things that still hold me back, those people I don't reach out to because I'm nervous, those activities that make me feel out of control.  Most specifically those things that keep holding me back from feeling like this city and this time in my life is my home.  I see myself living confidently and enjoying, then I wobble, then I regain control, then I wobble.  At what point will I look back and realize that I've done this long enough to be confident in myself?  In my family?  In my motherhood?