No Manual Included.

Over 7 years ago, Riley came home from the hospital with Ryan and I...and we had no idea what we were doing. She didn't come with a manual or instructions and I'm finding that even though I was able to figure out the eating, sleeping and pooping part of a baby's life, each day comes with struggles and celebrations that noone ever prepares you for.

I didn't have a game plan when I became a parent. I never went into parenthood thinking that I was going to tackle certain obstacles a particular way. I, along with Ryan, just hoped (and still do) that our kids grow up feeling nothing but love from us and stay grounded.

When Riley started walking, she would fall and get right back up again. If she didn't feel like walking, she's drag her chubby thighes across the floor by crawling. These days, she can clearly walk and run like a champ...and if you have seen the post about her hula hooping, you know she can do that pretty well too.

Bike riding. Totally different issue. I, momma, am not a pro bike rider. Does a human balancing on two thin wheels make any sense to me? Not really. BUT, I did learn when I was little. This summer, we challenged Riley (and ourselves) with the task of learning to ride her bike without her training wheels. Who would have thought that it was going to be such a daunting task?

I think it was probably more Ryan and I putting it off than Riley's non-motivation to learn in the beginning. I mean, how fun is it to bend over for long periods of time, holding on to the seat of her bike, keeping her propped up so she doesn't fall over? Not fun at.all. But, last night, I felt overcome with sadness as she sat on her bike, helmet buckled firmly on her head, with nowhere to go. She couldn't ride alone and didn't know where to begin.

I wasn't sure how to go about motivating her initially. I mean, these days, everyone is all about positive reinforcement, positive this, positive that. I get it. I understand that kids need praised and I'll be the first to cheer my child on for an accomplishment she or he has made. At the same time, when kids feel failure (or what they think failure is), some don't know how to deal with it because we've spent all this time praising them for everything and not addressing how to deal with life when it doesn't go as planned.

Riley fell off her bike about 2 times before she decided to give up. I looked at her and I wanna say I had some sort of anger in my eye and said that if she wants to quit, she'll never learn. I actually said, "Riley, you always quit when you can't do something and I'm over it. Get on the bike and ride it. Stop acting like you can't do anything."

Was it the right approach? Probably not in the books of therapists or guidance counselors. Did I call my child a quitter? Sort of. I wanted to light a fire under her ass and get her going. I've gotten to the point where I'm sick of her whining about not doing something when I know she's capable of just doing something.

She did it last night. She rode her bike...a few house-lengths before she would veer into the grass. But, she freaking did it. Tears filled my eyes and I felt a sense of accomplishment. Not just for her, but for me, too. I usually tell people I have no patience. It's the truth. But last night, I took my own advice of sucking it up and just doing it -- held on to Riley, focused on her...and there she went.

And yes, I'm totally patting myself on the back right now.