Easter weekend - story # 2

    This weekend, after the Egg Dive was over, we stuck around so the kids could swim. And actually dive.  Our neighborhood pool has a little diving board but they've never been off a BIG diving board.  And while Lydia was still too scared and stuck with the short one, Elijah tackled it and we can chalk up another "first." I was a bit nervous for him, not because I thought it was unsafe, but because I didn't want him to get all the way up, chicken out, and then be angry at himself.  But, no fear from him. His response when he came up: "Awesome!" And now I know.
 

    After about 10 times more on the high dive, he decided he wanted to be like the "real" lap swimmers, and try to swim down the 25 feet long lane.  That may not sound like a lot, and to some kids, it isn't.  But to my kids who have only taken the obligatory swim lessons and learned basic strokes only to totally not practice it during the summer,  it WAS a big deal.  But after, "Mom, can I? Can I? Can I?" He jumped in, and those swim lessons came back. And while I thought he'd freak out not being able to touch bottom, he didn't.  He got to the other side, and to my surprise, came back.  The lifeguard (past life) in me was pleased as punch.  

      But, what totally blew me away, really, really blew me away is when Lydia told me she wanted to try it.  My 5-year-old who was just learning the crawl stroke, wanted to swim 25 feet.  That's half an Olympic size pool, you know? I can't accurately describe what I felt - anxiety, apprehension.  What if she couldn't make it all the way?  What if she got scared?  What if the lifeguard didn't see her and I would have to jump in, fully clothed, to save her? But, she begged. And I relented.  As Elijah is on his way back, Lydia jumps in and makes her way across. 

 

Oh, it was brutal.  All I could see was her little head and her little arms poking out of the water as she tried to swim hand-over-hand all the way down, totally vertical because she couldn't get her legs to the surface.  I know for sure that I was a wreck, I video-taped it.  All you can hear is me yelling:  "Turn on your back if you get tired, Lydia.  You can just come back this way, Lydia.  Just float if you need to, Lydia."  And she just kept on. It took f o r e v e r.  You can hear my relief as she gets to the end.  I keep repeating:  "She did it!"

     And this swimming excursion has taught me a little lesson.  A lesson that I'm sure will become more glaringly obvious in the years to come.  But, is it possible that sometimes, my kids know more than me what they are capable of doing? Is it possible that letting them take chances isn't always a bad thing? Is it possible that I'll survive letting go of some control? Anyone? Do you think?