two wheels

My dad ran behind his six-year-old daughter, a dishtowel wrapped around the back of my banana-seat to hoist me up as I tipped.  Around and around the block he ran, while I yelled, "don't let go!"  Suddenly I didn't hear him breathing  behind my shoulder.  I looked, crashed, and cried indignantly, "you let go!"  

He saw that I could do it, and had confidence in me that I didn't yet have in myself.  That, and he was tired of running.

Flash forward to my life as a parent.  Obi-1, who is nearly 5, has been itching to ride a "two wheeler."  Our neighbor boy, "Li'l Joe," and his family introduced us to family biking.  I think it's fair to say they've encouraged Mr. Kenobi's commute-by-bike, showing confidence that he could do it long before we were certain.  They loaned us little bikes when all we thought necessary for a 2 year old's riding pleasure was a tricycle.  Once Obi-1 watched his friend take off on a 2-wheeler, he immediately wanted to do the same.  For two weeks, we've been trying to teach him patience, though not very successfully!  

And so you can imagine Saturday evening, while the neighborhood kids were all out riding up and down the block on scooters and bikes, that Obi-1 again asked to ride a 2-wheeler.  Without so much as a second thought, Li'l Joe's dad got up and went to his garage, returning with a smaller 2-wheeled bike.  I was skeptical, but gave Obi-1 the go-ahead to get on.  However, I looked to my neighbor and said something about hoping we didn't spend the evening in the emergency room.  

Fortunately, Obi-1 didn't share my lack of confidence.  He pushed himself along by foot for a few yards, then pulled up his feet and pedaled.  Within a few more yards, he was riding.  Mr. Kenobi and I didn't even have to leave our lawn chairs.

Sometimes you need somebody else to believe in you.  Other times, you have to just believe in yourself.