Eureka!

So I got home from the movie I went to see with my friend (District 9 - we enjoyed it), and my hubby was waiting for me with great excitement.

"Your girl has big news," he said. "She wanted to stay up to tell you."

"What is it?"

Dramatic pause. "She rode her bike!!"

"She did?"

"She did!!"

"Really rode it? Like, pedalled and everything?" (Not that we doubt the mighty Spills' physical prowess or anything.)

"Really rode it!! It was sort of in a large circle, aiming at the school. But she stayed up, she righted her balance."

"Wow. Wow!"

"She was so proud of herself," my hubby said. "She kept shouting, 'It's the click! I'm clicking! I'm clicking!'"

"That might be because we talked the other night about how it would click. She wanted to know if it would make a noise."

We moved on to the subject of celebrations. "Well, she didn't want her bath," my hubby said. "She wanted a party instead."

"So did you have one?" It seemed like I'd missed all the excitement. Balloons, cake, games.

"Oh, yeah." My hubby beamed.

"Well? What did you do?"

"Coloured and listened to Sanjaya!!"

Of course.

Painful Perseverence

So tonight Spills wandered mournfully into my room and tumbled onto the bed. She was a small bundle of sweaty depression. She'd been outside with her Dad. Meanwhile, I'd had a blissfully silent bath.

"Did you have fun?" I asked after a minute, looking down at her.

"Rmmmf," from under her arm.

"How are you feeling?"

She looked up at me, and tears filled her eyes. "I'm having a bad day."

I sat down beside her. "Really? I thought you had such a good day. You had fun with your friends in French. Your friend made you a friendship bracelet, and a card that said, "I love you." We had a picnic beside the lake. You did crafts this afternoon. "

"But I can't. Ride. My. Bike."

"Ahh."

This has been the ongoing saga for the last while. Donna can ride her bike. Simon can ride his bike. The whole world can ride its bike no-handed, balancing on one toe, while Spills cannot. And it has not come instantly, despite evening practice sessions with her Dad.

"Well, you know," I said, "it took me a long time to figure out how to ride my bike. And you know what happened when I did? I took off on Grandpa, because I thought I'd ride around the block and surprise everyone. Except on the other side of the block I fell off, and then I couldn't figure out how to start it again. And I had to walk all the way home with my bike."

"Was Grandpa mad?"

"I don't think so. Maybe a little. He was probably worried, I guess."

She sighed. "Will I ever ride my bike?"

"Of course you will! And then the world will be your oyster. We'll go for bike rides everywhere. Here's how it will work. You will try and fall over. You will try and fall over. You will try and fall over. That will happen a lot of times. But one day - it will CLICK!"

She stared at me. "Will it make a noise?"

"Will what make a noise?"

"The click."

"Oh," I said. "Well, no, I don't think so."

"Just loudly inside your head," she said, with the beginning of satisfaction.