Like many passionate love affairs, my son’s with his pedal bike turned out to be brief.
A short statement last week has left his Islabike languishing by the washing machine in the utility room: “I ride my balance bike Mummy”
Ironically getting a three year old to tell you ‘why’ they don’t want to do something is a frustrating business (unless of course it fits into the ‘it is yucky!’ category of reasons that is mainly reserved for green vegetables). Gentle cross examination has so far resulted in these responses:
“Mummy, I am good on my balance bike” and “Mummy, I don’t fall off my balance bike” and something along the lines of “you talk too much”. Which leads me suspect that he doesn’t enjoy my constant commentary that has accompanied all of his pavement pedalling:
“Keep pedalling! Mind the people! Look where you are going! Keep pedalling! Steer around the dog/toddler/postman! Keep pedalling!”
You get the picture. If I don’t provide this ‘encouragement’ he gets distracted, stops pedalling and the bike keels over, thankfully with only damage to my confidence as an enabling parent. Whilst he can ‘ride’ his Islabike he’s clearly not confident or able to combine this with managing the complex set of interactions and manoeuvres that come with negotiating a journey on the pavements of our busy little town.
Hopefully some day in the coming months he’ll pick up his pedal bicycle again and realise it is his one true love after all (after his Mummy, obviously). Until then the balance bike is back in commission, sending the pedestrian’s of Dunbar fleeing in terror as he swoops around their ankles..