The husband just took the training wheels off of F’s bike this morning. Mind you, F never really needed the training wheels as he’d already learned how to balance on two wheels with his “balance bike” as a toddler. But this morning, as sun cast gorgeous light over Seattle, we realized there were 2 days left of summer here in the Pacific Northwest. So, my dear husband proclaimed it was time.
Thing is, the training wheels have been on for me. I’m terrified of that bike. I worry about speed, my loss of control over major injuries and big falls for my little boy, and I worry about the greater transition to him biking off and away from home. Remember when he got the bike in July? Well, I admit it, I’m scared of it. And even though the training wheels never really govern F’s speed or his decisions, they have been a great security blanket for me.
Helicopter parent, you betcha.
I really don’t care what you call me. Okay, I do on some level, please be nice. But know I have distaste for the labeling of parenting “styles” and decision-making. Particularly when it enters the research world. I hated the media blitz earlier this month about the study describing the risks surrounding “helicopter parents” and obesity. I mean, come on. All this categorizing doesn’t really help us. I may be “helicopter” with this decision and then absent-minded-laissez-faire with another. You, too?
Please wish me luck. F doesn’t need the luck, of course; part of me knows he’ll do very well and make good decisions. We’re having our dry run, sans the 3rd and 4th wheel, around 5pm today.
What about you? Was it a no-brainer to shed the training wheels? Tell me your tips on how to make this better (for both of us).
I know as the boys get older the ante is only uped. Read this post by The Teen Doc where she talks about keeping your hands on your lap while watching the accident happen. Phew. Thank goodness I have 11 more years to prepare.
Footer
Shelley says
Okay, this is going to horrify you, but my 5 year old has had way more scapes, bruises, falls, and now stiches to his eyelid from the scooter than the bike without the extra wheels. After the scooter incident a few weeks ago while on vacation, where he bravely accepted 8 stitches in the eyelid from an ER doc, he decided on his own that it was time for the bike and to take the wheels off–the scooter was such a big part of his life the last year because he did not want the wheels off so he just did not do it. The scooter has been retired for a bit, on his own volition. The thing is, he could have had many accidents from all of the tricks he did on that scooter, but it was something as innocent as a small rock that tripped up the scooter on a flat street that stoped the scooter and off he went flying. Helmets don’t stop rocks. Now he bikes with my husband and his dad up and down the streets of Magnolia every night for about a half hour to the park, or to the Village and he loves it. My husband loves it as it gives them a minute together being active and outside and away from the pressures of everyday life and school for a kindergartner. So honestly, it was a no brainer. Teaching him to enjoy being outside and active and not in front of a computer or stressed about homework for a 30 minute break is WORTH every worry that he might hit a rock and end up with stitches again. Even if he does end up with stitches again, god forbid, I can’t helicopter that tiny little rock that might decide to up end the bike. If I did worry about that, he would never go outside. Good luck.
Kathy says
I think I am similar to you WSS — I tend to be a parent that stands nearby at the playground (as opposed to sitting away chatting on a phone or with a friend) and I walk fairly close to him on his bike. And yes, I don’t care if other moms think I’m “hovering” or overly protective. He just got his first bike about a month ago (he’s almost 7 though). He likes to go very slowly, to the point where he tips with the training wheels, and any slight incline is a “Big Hill” in his view.
I also worry though, that he’ll adopt my “worry tendencies” and become one of those hesitant kids prone to teasing in school for being so cautious and scared of hurting himself. I’m trying to find a balance of showing him we have confidence in his abilities, as should he, and also encouraging him to “be brave” in riding his bike.
I’m just thankful it takes them so many years to reach the really scary teen years (at least I’m expecting it to be scary!). Can you imagine if they went from 4 to 14 overnight?
Meagan says
I’m not worried about the falls from the bike (easy for me to say NOW… my son is not quite 4 months old) I’m worried about cars. My house is an easy bike ride from a great park… 90% of the way there has sidewalks… I’m hoping so long as I teach him to be considerate of pedestrians they won’t mind us encroaching. But there is a stretch of road with no sidewalks and a fair amount of traffic. It already scares me.
Gabby says
I learned awhile back, my son is 16 now, that sometimes I have to swallow my fear and let him go. I give him information, and all of the safety gear that I can. Try to allow him to flutter from the nest. IT IS HARD. I know that making my fears, my son’s fears could do him worse damage. I remember I was signing him up for a gym membership at fifteen, and the person signing us up asked him what he did for fun. He told him that recently his friends and him had started to ride mountain bike trails, but he also like foot ball. The guy was older late 20’s. The guy said that is cool, I wish my mom had let me do that kind of thing, I always wanted to. Instead you know what I did, I am not saying this was right, but at 18 I joined the Army.
I just kept glancing at the Missing In Action bracelet he wore for a friend. I will never forget this story.
Eric Bass says
Having raised two now young adults, I remember vividly being in the “new-bike-not-wanting-to hover” mode. It is a very scary experience, but in the end (and remembering also vividly tha there was no such thing as helmets when I was that age), they are always alright, even if they do take a tumble or two. After all this time I’ve come to the conclusion that the joy they experience is naturally tempered by pitfalls, and I also realize I just have to let go and trust they’ll be OK in their scary play (think about those climbing toys at the park or how kids will spin themselves around and around that bar with their heads barely missing the gorund each time…OK don’t think about that too much)….
As Shelley above, I’ve never been too keen on the skateboards or the scooters, or even the Healies, but the kids got through them, fell a bit, and they are fine. Personally I’d stick with the bike for now…why encourage more craziness?
Good luck!
Viki says
I am a helicopter parent when it comes to things my kids consume – media, books, toys, games, food. I’m not when it comes to risk of injury. Aside from common sense and things that lead to serious injury, of course. I wouldn’t feel like a bad parent if I let them try something that resulted in a broken bone. I wouldn’t choose it, but the risk is worth the benefit in many cases. I remember so many moments when I was in a pickle – afraid, stuck, uncertain, broke, lost, stranded, injured. I have so many memories of overcoming scary experiences – even playful scary experiences – and how much joy, confidence I was re warded with when I got through. I also know that I have my poor mother far more than my share of stress and anxiety. However, I made better choices as a result. I didn’t get into cars with tipsy friends, didn’t swallow, snort, or smoke things that were passed around, etc. All those experiences starting with learning to rollerskate to walking to school by myself in 2nd grade, to learning to use the stove, to figuring out how to get down from a tall tree – they all gave me a sense of confidence, feeling of resourcefulness that I can figure things out for myself. That’s what I think of, then sit my butt down on the park bench and let the kids be. I wish I felt comfortable to give them as much freedom as I had as a child.