Totally gypped out of some solid dad moments…
Ok here’s the deal. It’s still pretty cold out here in STL, but it’s technically spring now and it’s going to get warmer. So, to help the season remember what the hell it’s supposed to do and supposed to be, we’re getting ready.
One of the things we did was inflate the tires on my kids’ bikes. Our oldest has a pretty good bike and has been two-wheeling it for a few years now. Our middle guy inherited the balance bike, which is a small bike with no pedals so he can get used to riding while also walking at the same time. It’s pretty rad. Our youngest just rocks a big wheel because hell yeah big wheels rule.
They cruise around our driveway like a little biker gang. Now that I think about it, where the hell did they even get those leather jackets?
Step one
A few years ago, our oldest randomly asked during dinner if I could take the training wheels off his bike. I think I pretty much ran out the door right then to do it…you know…before he changed his mind.
He spent years on the balance bike, graduated to a bike with training wheels, and now was ready to have a go at two-wheeling it. It was a milestone — a rite of passage — for him as a kid and for me as a dad.
I figured we’d be out there for weeks working on balancing. He’d fall, cry, and I’d brush him off and use the teachable moment to explain to him about perseverance and about how falling is ok as long as you always get up. My wife would yell through the window that it’s time to come in and we’d ask for five more minutes before we eventually came in 20 minutes later.
You know…Normal Rockwell kind of stuff. Dad stuff.
Finding balance
Practice is kind of a weird, obscure idea. It’s good to practice at whatever you’re doing, but no matter how much practicing you’ve done, you still have to eventually graduate from practice and jump in and do the thing for the first time.
This was one of those things.
We ceremoniously took the training wheels off. He was excited. I was excited. We were all excited. The whole family was out on the front porch anticipating the whole event.
The seat was at a good height. Tires were perfectly inflated. Handlebars were straight. Helmet was snug. Shoes were tied. Wind was slight. Temperature was good. Barometric pressure was acceptable. Pollen levels were decent. A dog barked in the distance.
We were ready for launch.
He got on and I was holding on to the bike tightly. Right foot was on the upper pedal and left foot was on the lower. I told him to push with the right, keep pedaling, and not to worry because I’d be running beside him the whole time.
3…2…1…
He pushed. I let go. He took off. I ran alongside him for — no kidding — 3 steps.
Then, he just rode off. By himself. Around the driveway. Lap after lap after lap.
And just like that, we were done.
Wait wait wait wait wait…we’re done? That’s it? What about my Rockwellian rite of passage and all my dad moments? No? Nothing?
Damn you incredibly effective and worth-every-penny balance bike!
*shakes fist in the air*
DAAAAAMN YOUUUUUUUU!
I turned around and my wife was laughing. Hard. Then I started laughing…equally as hard.
There he went. Two-wheelin’ it. I took some photos and video, gave some proud dad hugs, went back in to finish my spaghetti, and sulked quietly about being robbed of my dad moments.
Kidding, I was super proud. This was about him…not me. Little man was rocking it. He wouldn’t come back in for a while and we didn’t even try to call him in.
Journeys are different
Thinking about that time now made me realize how different our journeys can be. Growing up, I didn’t have a balance bike because, well, they weren’t a thing. Compared to my friends, I was late in learning how to ride on two wheels, but when I finally learned, it was huge. It was one of those things that I knew was huge even right then at the time.
But here’s the thing: Journeys can be different, but those differences don’t have to take away from the accomplishment. It can be exhilarating no matter how you got there.
Shortcuts aren’t always the best way, but there will always be new things to help us learn faster, grow stronger, and be better. Learning to use the tools that can help us get to where we want is part of evolving.
Using a balance bike wasn’t cheating, it was taking advantage of a new thing and adding a step in the learning process — a step that would lengthen practice, but shorten the step to the actual doing.
It was playing the long game and taking the time to develop good habits.
Balance. Inhale. Exhale. Go.
Ok, you get it. The lesson here is pretty in-your-face. Take the time to learn and use the tools that are made available to you.
Your experience is going to be different than everyone else’s…and that’s ok. It won’t make the final accomplishment any less valuable. This is true in business, in relationships, and, well, kind of everything in life that is worth working towards.
There’s most likely many ways to get good at what you want to get good at. Find what works for you and then relentlessly get after it.
The middle kid is all over the balance bike now and so far, so good. I’m looking for other ways to get my dad moments in because man, that thing sure does do what it promises to do.
Maybe I’ll just stick to my wheelhouse and show them how to properly not be handy around the house.
#bewhatyoumake
