Colm O'Regan: The cycle of life, now I'm teaching my daughter how to ride a bike
It isn’t always obvious whether or not you’re doing a good job as a parent. Sometimes you get a hug or a comment out of the blue. But they’re too unpredictable for people like me who crave affirmation. Mostly it’s when it’s an absence of something. Like hassle. A lot of the job is wondering whether the people are watching you lose an argument on the street with a small human who has acquired about 90% of the logical skills necessary for life in general and 100% of the skills necessary to beat your equivocating weak ass.
But every so often there is a moment where you can just stand back, blow on your fingernails and pretend to polish them and say to yourself: “Yep. You want a job done? Best call The Wolf. Cos this cub just caught its first prey.”
Most of the time you’re not teaching them to kill for food. (Although today’s children probably will be passing on that skill to the next generation in the After Times). But the best warm feelings do come from teaching them some discrete learnable common skill.
The bike was in the backyard for a good while. Reproaching us. “We really should teach her to cycle,” I said wringing my hands. “But what can I do? I’m just one man against The System.”
The System in this case, was laziness.
People make the assumption that parents will do anything for their children. That’s not true. It depends on what the thing is and look… not at the moment ok? I’m busy. Ask your mother. In a second ok? Why can’t a man get a minute’s peace.
Well, feckit last week I just went out and did it. I took off the stabilisers as they were only a cod. I was like some right-winger claiming the dole was a disincentive. NO, YOU’LL LEARN THE HARD WAY. My daughter and I went down to a patch of flat ground and stayed there.
Up and down the route we went, me hunched over holding onto the saddle at an ergonomically unpleasing angle.
And then I let go. And she was off. Pedalling away. It was heady stuff. The music from a Bank Ad where a breathy woman says “We’ll be with every step of the way no matter what” playing in my mind.
She was squealing with delight. It was such a lovely pure expression of mastery. It overflowed into me. I would highly recommend anyone feeling a bit meh, to find ONE SMALL THING to master. Anything at all. Knowing how far back to go in a Netflix show, whittling, anything.
Once the euphoria had died down, then she moved to Learner Blasé Stage. Part 1 is cycling and narrating the process of cycling. “Do you know what Daddy, it’s all about balance …” The second stage is just talking about stuff. “We were lucky the weather was so nice Daddy.’ I had to laugh. I remember that from learning to drive. One minute I’d muttering fiercely at my father THAT I KNOW I NEED TO KEEP OUT FROM THE DITCH. THAT’S WHAT I’M TRYING TO DO and the next minute it’s casually asking “How did that fella get planning permission for that yoke of an extension?”. Just two men going for a spin on a country road on an autumn Sunday. Talking about the price of things, shooting the breeze. At one point I chanced winding down the window to lean an elbow on it and then my father gently reminding me to keep out from the ditch. So it was back to 10-to-2.
Meanwhile, my daughter has oversteered into a wobble and a fall. The narration has stopped for now. But the cycle of life continues soon.
