A personal essay about grandparents, friendship, motherhood, and being your own safety net, inspired by a training wheels metaphor in Far from the Tree by Robin Benway.
"Training wheels" is exactly the language I've needed. I've always called mine guardrails — my philosophy raising my kids was never about preventing every swerve, just making sure they couldn't fully derail.
Reading about your daughter who won't let you touch the handlebars hit hard. I think I built guardrails partly so my kids wouldn't need to ask permission to wobble.
This one came from a single bike metaphor in Far From the Tree, and it undid me a little. It got me thinking about training wheels as every person, and every version of myself, that quietly kept me upright before I learned to balance on my own. This might be the most personal thing I've written here so far. Who were the training wheels in your life, the ones holding you steady before you even noticed they were there?
I love the photo! My grandma taught me to crochet and each time I see a blanket I am flooded with the opposite of cortisol! I must google that ASAP. Thank you. xN
Mine was my great grandmother! I'm no shrink, but I think that's exactly why I can't walk past a crochet blanket in a secondhand store without rescuing it. I have entirely too many now, and you'll catch every single one of them on my feed. That opposite-of-cortisol feeling is real.
I enjoyed reading this piece, especially how you wrote it from what a book that wasn't meant for self help or emotional improvement made you feel. Very interesting.
"Training wheels" is exactly the language I've needed. I've always called mine guardrails — my philosophy raising my kids was never about preventing every swerve, just making sure they couldn't fully derail.
Reading about your daughter who won't let you touch the handlebars hit hard. I think I built guardrails partly so my kids wouldn't need to ask permission to wobble.
This one came from a single bike metaphor in Far From the Tree, and it undid me a little. It got me thinking about training wheels as every person, and every version of myself, that quietly kept me upright before I learned to balance on my own. This might be the most personal thing I've written here so far. Who were the training wheels in your life, the ones holding you steady before you even noticed they were there?
I love the photo! My grandma taught me to crochet and each time I see a blanket I am flooded with the opposite of cortisol! I must google that ASAP. Thank you. xN
Mine was my great grandmother! I'm no shrink, but I think that's exactly why I can't walk past a crochet blanket in a secondhand store without rescuing it. I have entirely too many now, and you'll catch every single one of them on my feed. That opposite-of-cortisol feeling is real.
I enjoyed reading this piece, especially how you wrote it from what a book that wasn't meant for self help or emotional improvement made you feel. Very interesting.