Last week G watched another girl at the park in the space of 1.5 hours learn to ride without training wheels.   She was older and probably smarter, but terrified of riding down the grassy hill at Kila’s Park, while G jumped off the edge in front of her.   There is no explanation – mental blocks can’t be outwitted, they can only be taken head on with the brain turned off on a side.

Several times during the next week G mentioned how children on TV did not have training wheels, how she wanted to goto the basketball court and practice without training wheels, how she was a little nervous but ready.   Believing that this day would come — based on the intimate viewings I’ve had of my own progressions, Beckie’s, James’, and even Alex adding to his formidable skills riding harder and harder trials — still can not prepare you for the euphoria upon seeing one of your crew break down a barrier, smash the living shit out of it, or more realistically give it that heroic little crack that will bring on the inevitable. Beatrice busting out of her coffin in Kill Bill, the Orcs breaching the main gate of Helm’s Deep, Chuck Norris 4wheeling out of certain death in Lone Wolf McQuade — music swells, bass rumbles, lighting casts a mood…G is going to ride a bike!

The push G needed was not a bootstrapping of her confidence in herself, but jealousy that a girl who’s ass she dropped on a descent could ride without training wheels in 1.5 hours.

Sometimes all the right things come together at the right time in the right way, sometimes you are just ready and our desire to place patterns onto things makes us overthink.  The watershed moment was only the next moment.  You can’t stop Hurricane Genevieve, who gets better every ride, in some way or another.   Recently it was complaining on the climb up the hill from the Pink Park that she had to potty, and me telling her: “you’re either gonna potty in your pants or we’re gonna ride home, cause you’re not pissing in the middle of the neighborhood sweetheart.”   Recently it was apologizing to me for falling, and me explaining to her that there is no need to apologize to me cause the punishment for falling is all on her.   Recently it was learning to pick up her bike when she needs to turn it around or get over something. Recently it was understanding that holding Kila’s leash means she needs to be clear in her decisions and plan ahead.

We’ve tried 3 times, most recently in Sedona, and this last time it went with great enthusiasm at the start, as it has the last 3 times. Then a spark, Beckie stepping in after I had suggested G needed a different voice. The nurturing from mommy, instead of the coaching from daddy. Though before we started I told her with total commitment, commitment I am capable enough to ensure even if — as it has in the past — involved me taking a hit, “sweetheart, I will not let you fall“. And she believed it too, but Beckie taught her how to put a foot down when she is falling. The first, and ultimately most important, thing you learn snowboarding is the backside brake. And I was so focused on teaching G to go, I did not teach her to stop. Coaching from Mommy, nurturing from Daddy.   Then reps where she was alone but for me running next to her, yelling “I’m doing it!”

Another session yesterday, where she opted to go practice on the basketball court before playing in the park.   I showed her how to use the ratchet to take off the wheels, and she told me we’d try 3 times.   We did just a few more, but not much; now that I know it will happen, it does not need to happen all at once.   Soon we will go 3 times, and it will only be once.   The she imploded again going up the hill.