There was a time not too long ago when I probably would have forced the issue. I might have picked them up and plopped them on their bikes or drug the bikes outside a few minutes after they found them under the tree. Because you just have to take a Christmas morning ride down the street. It's just how it's done!
There's something to be said for just plunging ahead with things and embracing the moment.
There's plenty more to be said for taking things slowly, assessing a situation, and moving with care.
I'm trying to do a little less forcing of the former, and a little more appreciating of the latter.
My children are not me. This idea can still be hard to grasp, although it is becoming all the more evident as they grow. So, while I adhere to my mother's philosophy of "more is more" and various other philosophies, like "go big or go home" and "the higher the hair, the closer to Heaven"...
I'm slowly learning to understand the little person that each one of them is. Not me in a tiny person's body. Not me as a child. Them. Or, more importantly, he, he, and she.
And even more slowly, I'm learning how to be the mother that each one of them needs. I'm just one mother, but they each need different parts of me in different doses. Me, the snuggler. Me, the disciplinarian. Me, the listening ear. Me, the encourager, the nurse, the gym coach, the project partner, the nurturer.
I struggle to keep up.
But I am finding that--with a little time and a little space--they are growing stronger, braver, more certain, and more confident.