Hellobee

HJ just completed a one-week intensive bike-riding camp at the center where she receives occupational therapy, and I have to say it was the best experience ever. Both for her and for me!

It involved going to camp five days a week from 9 am – 11: 30 a.m. With about 15 other children, HJ spent the majority of that time working hard on learning how to ride her brand-new big girl bike.

It’s honestly a genius idea. Not the least of these being that bike-riding is a particularly tough skill to learn for many kids receiving occupational therapy. Whereas some of our friends’ kids were happily taking off their training wheels at the age of four, HJ was one who still struggled to get going on a tricycle or use a scooter.

I’m not sure if it was because of her low muscle tone, general fear and anxiety, some balance and coordination issues, or just a combination of all those factors. But for awhile, I thought maybe she just wouldn’t ever learn to ride a bike.

When she turned six, we tried for months to get her going on a hand-me-down bike with training wheels, but we really didn’t get too far.

Then the bike camp started.

I have to admit that the first day was a bit of disaster. We had tried to get her excited about the camp by having her pick out a new bike (pink and white with a picture of a mermaid, sea green streamers on the handles, and a white basket) and try on her princess helmet in advance. Big mistake. She kept insisting the helmet was choking her even with the strap under her chin being very loose. On that first morning of camp, she cried and cried and insisted that she wasn’t going to go. I finally convinced her just to see what was going on at camp, even if she didn’t get on the bike. It was also raining pretty hard that day, and we were over an hour late.

I almost turned around and went home. But something in me didn’t want to give up before we had even started.

When we arrived, things “magically” turned around. Or rather, the magic and patience of the occupational therapists took over. It never ceases to amaze me how HJ becomes a completely different child when we’re with her therapists or teachers. The crying stopped. She actually let the therapist put on her helmet. She got on the bike. And she let them take off the training wheels almost right away.

The therapists then attached a handle to the back of her bike so they could help her steer and balance, but by the end of that first day she was pretty much off and riding.

On the last day of camp, they had the parents come to watch the kids ride. She still had the handle on the back of her bike, but the therapists told me that they really only had it there for her to feel secure. She was pretty much riding on her own! They called it “Dumbo’s feather” and assured me that she would hopefully only need it for a short while.

I don’t know who was prouder, HJ or me. All I know is I definitely cried. The therapist actually gave me a hug, reminding me that learning how to ride a bike was one of the first real steps of independence in childhood.

“And before you know it, they’ll be starting to drive!” she said. Oh boy, let’s not even go there. I cried a lot this year because of HJ, but a lot of those were happy tears. The time she got on the bus by herself and didn’t look back. The time we had a big IEP meeting with all her teachers and therapists and they told me about all the progress she had made this year. The time she got on stage at church during Easter and performed with all the other Sunday school kids. And finally, the time I saw her riding her bike with determination in her eyes and a big smile on her face.

Here she is after her last day of camp riding with my sister.

We haven’t quite got the hang of it like her therapists, but you can see how happy HJ is here. “Only two fingers!” she reminds us when she sees us gripping tightly onto the handle with both hands. It’s a good lesson for me. Learning to let go. One that I’m probably going to have to learn again and again over the years. It’s a good thing HJ doesn’t seem to have any problems with breaking free and growing up no matter how much I want to keep her little sometimes.