The perfect test for whether we've made progress since Easter : Quad biking.
W is used to things being easy and he gets frustrated if he can't quickly pick up a skill or idea. Also noteworthy are W's excellent fine motor skills which contrast dramatically with his gross motor. When he learnt to climb stairs he did it in one go. No practice, no building up slowly. He'd never climbed the stairs but one day my little toddler decided it was time and crawled up at top speed, stopping only when he reached the top and head butted the wall with extraordinary force. As he fell backwards into my arms past my horrified face I had a glimpse of the shock and hilarity of what life with W would bring.
Bike riding was another challenge. Weeks and months of patient attempts came to nothing but tears, frustration and declarations of the bike's obvious stupidity. We abandoned it: "He'll learn when he's ready" we said, in defeat. The bike returned to the shed and lay untouched until a visit to Wales, months later. We got the bikes out, had a cup of tea and steeled ourselves for spending the next few days cajoling, encouraging and reprimanding uncooperative bikes. I stood at the kitchen window, deep breath.
He did a short stretch with S running alongside. Then he was gone, off into the distance. 45 seconds was all it took. W can ride a bike.
This child is binary, it's 0 or 1.
So my apprehension as I stood in the waiting area for quad biking was palpable. I know what we're up against but I have cheery determination. One challenge at a time.
Challenge 1: W hates new things ("I don't want to quad bike."). You don't know you've never done it; we're here now, it's paid for and you might love it. It's happening, go with the flow.
Challenge 2 : W hates helmets. And safety vests. (and harnesses and wellies and things that are too tight, or too loose, or scratchy). I'm a pro at getting W into safety equipment now, it's an essential skill: I ignore complaints and enthusiastically point out the amazing level of adjustment, making a rapid sequence of unbelievably tiny changes until W's anxiety abates and he accepts the kit.
Challenge 3 : W's co-ordination is not his strong suit. He finds it tough to control 2 things at once at a gross motor level until he's got the feel for it, then he'll look at you like it was the easiest thing in the world.
The boys are queued up and one by one they do their test lap. One by one they make it look easy. I notice W is the littlest of the group by some margin. I'm taking deep breaths and being unseasonably cheery, internally willing everything to go our way. I know he can do it. He's last to go.
W flunks it. Badly. He can go forward, but not turn. He can't control the throttle. He finishes an agonising lap by crashing into another go kart as the instructor pulls the safety cord.
Challenge 4 : Humiliation. Hot tears fill his helmet and my heart breaks. We're down but not out; this is the toughest challenge W needs to face.
The antidote to humiliation is kindness and its presence changes the course of our morning. The boss, Tim, doesn't like seeing 8 year olds cry and he's only there today to oversee a new employee so he's got time on his hands. He's patient, he's kind and he's our hero. He shows us the garage bit where they fix the quad bikes, sets up some cones there and teaches W the controls. In less than 5 minutes, W is back on the course and has another go. He's got the hang of it, and loves it.
W faced a lot of challenges in one morning but with a little help, he rose to all of them; there was no giving up. When it comes to challenges, that's all you can ask.
PS. I want to hug Tim.
PPS. More to follow on K's confidence later, but check out that smile! He had such a great time.
