I must not be a good motivator. All of my kids were the age of 3 before they were potty-trained, and for years my son refused to ride a two-wheel bicycle.

“Which son?” you may be asking. But under strict orders from said child, I am not allowed to tell you.

Countless times though, I went outside with my son who was riding his bike with training wheels.

“Lets take those off and ride on two wheels,” I said.

He was always willing to try, so, off with the training wheels (again) and on with the helmet and crash pads. Perhaps I needed a softer approach … ?

“Now, you aren’t going to get this on the first try. It takes practice, and you will fall. But, you will be fine, and you will get back on the bike and try again. OK?”

He climbed, with shaky legs, onto the two-wheeled horse. But the pedals just wouldn’t cooperate. After several failed launch attempts, my son was growling in frustration.

“I can’t do this! I just can’t! I’m gonna fall!”

Slam! The bike was dropped onto the blacktop, the helmet went sailing into the yard and my son stomped into house.

“Just put the training wheels back on!”

I was left standing in the driveway, staring at the evil little bike.

Even Santa tried to help by bringing my son a brand new shiny bike last Christmas. He was thrilled, but not thrilled enough to give up the security that came with his smaller bike with training wheels.

I had just about given up on my son (hanging my head in shame).

“He will do it when he’s ready. I can’t make him,” I told myself.

Turns out, Mommy wasn’t the motivation he needed.

Enter Cub Scouts and the opportunity to earn a bike safety belt loop. Belt loops are awards earned by scouts for various achievements. They are proudly displayed on their uniform belts.

My son sat in his Cub Scout meeting and learned bike safety rules. “Next week, you will bring your bike and go through an obstacle course to earn your award.”

My son stared at me with wide eyes. No way was he going to be the only one with training wheels. No way was he not going to earn a belt loop.

That week a miracle happened. My son climbed onto his bike, with me behind him clinging to his shirt. He put his feet up on the pedals and pushed, and then crashed into the grass. I saw the frustration well up in his eyes, “Getting upset is not going to make this any easier,” I said. “You just have to keep practicing.”

Determined, he began pedaling … and pedaling … I gradually let up on my hold and said a silent prayer, “Please, God, let him have this little achievement. He so needs it right now.”

Then: “Mom! Mom! I’m doing it! I’m doing it!”

“Thank you, thank you,” I whispered as my son cruised up the driveway.

I chased after him and hugged him, spilling over with joy “I knew you could!”

And he did it over and over and over again.

He even has a shiny new belt loop to prove it! (Woo-hoo!)

Whew! We made it through bike safety, but I’m a little worried about earning the Merit Badges for shooting sports.