The stay-at-home dad: In need of pedal power

My 3-year-old might be the first natural athlete in my bunch. He kicks, throws, jumps, punches and runs better than any of my three older kids did at age 3. Finally, I might have a kid who will be fun to watch on a sports team.

Oops, nevermind. He just fell over on a stationary tricycle.

In my defense, we stashed the bikes in the bowels of the garage for the entire winter, so we didn’t have many opportunities to practice bike riding until recently. Nevertheless, he turns 4 this summer, and it seems like we have a long way to go before he’ll be able to pedal on his own, let alone sit on the thing without injuring himself.

After a little bit of Googling, it seems like plenty of 3-year-olds struggle to develop the muscle movements necessary for pedaling a bike. It takes practice, and every kid learns at their own pace. All my older kids took a bit longer to learn how to ride. I just thought my 3-year-old might have an easier time, especially since he already throws a ball farther than his 7-year-old older brother.

Seriously, he’s the first kid in a decade of parenting where I worry about a wayward ball smashing through a window. He jumps all around the house, maneuvering in strange positions and challenging numerous muscle groups by playing his own version of “The Floor is Lava.” He plays it by himself too, and quietly, so nobody knows what he’s doing until you spot him parkouring off the side of the couch.

Once he goes outside though, he becomes a different kid. He takes several minutes to inspect his helmet, then carefully places it on his head, fiddles with the strap for another several minutes, then takes the helmet off and asks me to put it on him.

He’ll pull out various vehicles. First, the tricycle, then his sister’s old small bike with the training wheels. He stares at them, makes a single attempt to lift a leg over the frame, then asks me to plop him on the seat.

Then he just sits there. When I tell him to put his feet on the pedals he acts like I’m speaking a different language. I try to grab his legs and put them on the pedals, but he’s got them locked to the ground. When I do get his feet on the pedals, he can’t move them even an inch.

Part of the problem stems from his preference of outdoor toys in past years. He loved scooting around in a Little Tikes “Cozy Coupe” car and did so whenever the other kids rode bikes.

We do have a tricycle with one of those adult-level push handles so that when you push it, the pedals move on their own and the kid can get used to the motion. But I lost the main screw to the handle at least a year ago, and I haven’t taken the time to replace it. There’s a pandemic, okay!? Screw shopping isn’t exactly an essential activity.

Without the special bike, helping him learn the movement takes real effort from me, especially as I age out of what I would consider the “acceptable parenting window.” Look, it hurts my back to bend over the bike and move the pedals for him. I’m old and broken now.

Honestly, he could take a little more ownership of this problem. A few days ago I pushed him on the tricycle around the driveaway. He giggled in delight and even made (slight) progress pushing the pedals himself. He came to a complete stop, sat on the not-moving bike for a full 30 seconds, lifted a leg over the seat and promptly fell to the ground.

“Daddy!” he yelled. “I fell because you pushed me too fast!”

At least he’s mastered the life skill of blame deflection.

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Tyler Wilson is a freelance writer and stay-at-home dad to four kids, ages 3-9. He is tired. He can be reached at twilson@cdapress.com.