Learning to Ride a Bicycle

Yesterday evening, as I was out working in the yard, I suddenly realized that Daniel's concurrent activity in the driveway was very new and impressive:  he was riding a two-wheeler back and forth, quite effortlessly.

This might not sound like a big deal, but it took a very long time to get Ian to the same point, and we only had the breakthrough about a year ago, and when we did, I was ecstatic.  I had been endeavouring   to teach him for some time, with some help and insight from a Russian balalaika player from church, also a music teacher, who saw where my pedagogy was falling short and sent me a thoughtful and very thorough email outlining a better methodology (which worked).

But apparently Daniel taught himself, and it would seem that he just got up and did it.

At the risk of dragging out all the birth-order baggage, I think there's a tendency for any learning or achievement accomplished by the first child is gigantic, and when the rest of the crowd figures things out, it hardly goes noticed.  Of course, this has its advantages and disadvantages for everyone involved, but it's an interesting phenomenon.

In any case, I was almost as impressed at Daniel's nuanced perspective on his achievement, relative to his elder's, since it reflected an understanding of the relativity at the core of matters of growth and development.

"Well, he knew how to do it before I did, but if we were both the same age then I would know how to do it before he did."

Then he asked me, "Daddy, are you impressed at me?"

I was impressed at him.

(May 30, 2012)