How many of your childhood
memories revolve around a bicycle? I learned to ride on a small red bike, my
dad or an older brother running beside me and helping me ‘til I learned to
balance all by myself. I remember getting my first new bike with a banana seat
for my ninth birthday. I think I rode most of the tread off the tires of that
bike. I remember the thrill of getting permission to ride all the way around
the block by myself when I was old enough, and then later riding to the store
with a friend on occasion. There were bike wrecks and bloodied elbows and
knees. There
were flat tires. Did anyone else out there ever get their pant leg caught in their bike chain? Eventually I upgraded to a ten-speed, but that magenta-colored
bike with the banana seat will always be the bike I remember most.
My older kids learned to
ride around age five, give or take a year, usually on a hand-me-down bike. Then
we would make a trip to the store to buy them a bike of their own. One of my
younger kids had no interest in learning to ride. Each summer I tried to coax
him onto a bike and each summer he said, “no.” Finally, about age ten, the
first day of his summer vacation, I announced that there would be no video
games played until he could ride a bike. He learned in a matter of minutes and
rode a lot that summer. He continues to ride often. Our youngest, Sydney,
learned to ride at a fairly young age, handicap and all. I found a bike at a
yard sale that was like the one I loved so much as a kid, all the way down to the banana seat.
She rides it a lot but recently has decided she needs to have one with hand
brakes. I see a new bike in her near future.
Tate, like many people
with autism, has trouble with motor skills. He cannot jump gracefully or run
quickly. He walks with an awkward gait, often on his toes. He was able to ride
a tricycle when he was a preschooler and we tried a few times to get him on a
bicycle with no success. Recently, a developmental pediatrician we saw asked me
if Tate liked to ride a bike. I told her that he was unable and she asked me
why. I was surprised that she was even asking. She sees kids with autism all
the time. I had to ask myself: Was I just rationalizing and making excuses or
were there valid reasons Tate could not ride a bike? We had not tried to get
Tate on a bicycle in years. Although Tate does have to work much harder than
his neurotypical peers to master new skills, he sometimes surprises me. Just
saying that it surprises me when Tate succeeds at difficult tasks makes me
somewhat sad and embarrassed. Why should I NOT expect Tate to do well? Why am I
such a cynic? I’ve never been that parent who expects great things from her
children. I expect average things from my children and less than average things
from my children with disabilities. Do not misunderstand me. I am extremely
proud of my children. ALL of my children. And I believe my children ARE doing
great things. But, I have always been somewhat of a pessimist, my whole life. I
suppose if I do not expect great things in life then I cannot be disappointed
if great things do not ensue. Then, when great things DO happen, I can be
pleasantly surprised. What would it have been like had I lived the last 51
years expecting great things? Would my family be doing even greater things than
they are now? I surely hope my pessimistic attitude has not held any of them
back.
The day I told Tate’s
doctor he could not ride a bike she urged me to find a “bike camp” and enroll
him. I had never heard of bike camp. She gave me the name and number of a man
to contact in Kansas City who would be able to tell me about it. I called and
emailed a few times but never got him to return my calls. Then, amazingly
enough, a bike camp fell into our laps in our very own small town. This bike
camp is a fantastic opportunity for Tate. I do not believe I would be exaggerating to say, learning to ride a bike could be life-changing for a kid with a disability. The camp boasts of an eighty percent
success rate. It is scheduled for this week.
I have spent a couple of months
trying to get Tate excited about learning to ride a bike. He has NOT jumped on board. He has told his peers things like, “My mom THINKS I am going to bike
camp this summer but I am not.” He has tried to convince me he was too busy and
he has made many excuses. I’ve heard, “I’m not into riding bikes” from him
often. He has been very anxious. He has nervously paced and argued for the past
two weeks about bike camp, bringing it up often. So, hoping to win him over, I
took Tate to Walmart one day last week and showed him the bike I wanted to buy
for him. The bike recommended by the bike “experts” is called a cruiser. It has coaster brakes, a wide seat, high handlebars, and wide pedals. Remarkably, it
was love at first sight for Tate. He could not own it soon enough. We went back this
past Friday morning and purchased the bike. I did not think Tate had the
coordination it would take to even wheel the bike to the front of the store so
I offered to do it, but he insisted. I had to show him more than once how to
hold the handlebars and lean over the bike to steer it as he walked beside it. He
probably looked pretty strange pushing that bike through the store. I had a
flashback to a few of my six year olds pushing much smaller bikes through
Walmart when we were buying their first bikes. This time I was there with my 12
year old who is 6’2” tall. It took a very long time but we made it to the
register and out the door with that bike. He even helped me lift it into the
van.
The cruiser |
Despite the love of the
new bike, Tate is still insisting he should not go to bike camp tomorrow. He was almost desperate in his attempts to convince me today. We were with friends
this evening and he was still attempting to persuade me to let him skip camp.
Exasperated, and forgetting that I cannot reason with Tate (it's the autism) or EVER win an
argument, I said something like, “Unless you can show me you can ride a
bike this evening, you are going to bike camp tomorrow.” He brightened right
up, ran over to my friend and told her that his mom had changed her mind and he
did not have to go to bike camp. All he had to do was ride two inches on his
own. Tate does not understand numbers and has no concept of measurement so I
did not let that part worry me. My kid got on that bike tonight and practiced
and practiced, determined to get out of bike camp. He persevered much longer
than I imagined he would. No, he did not ever truly ride the bike, but with
someone (2 or 3 people at times) helping him balance he did pedal it. He was
also able to balance by himself with both feet off the ground for a couple of
seconds at a time. Yes, he will still be going to bike camp tomorrow and he is
still dreading it. The cynical me, the pessimistic me, has thought silently for
weeks, “two out of eight kids won’t learn to ride the week of bike camp.” The
mom that I wish I could be, the mom that I SHOULD be, will be with Tate every
day this week telling him, “You can do it.” Both of us will be proud of him no
matter what.
And if he DOES master two wheels? I should probably have a talk with him about that ride to the mall fantasy he is having.
Read Part Two here: http://quirks-and-chaos.blogspot.com/2014/06/on-two-wheels-part-two.html
Read Part Two here: http://quirks-and-chaos.blogspot.com/2014/06/on-two-wheels-part-two.html
I would be so appreciative if you'd tell me in the comments section below where you saw this post. It has been circulated more than any post I've written to date and I'd love to hear where some of you have found it.
Everyone at iCan Shine believes!! Go Tate Go!!
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