“I don’t WANT to go!”
He curled up on the couch, burrowing his head into the pillow. The way he protested you’d think we’d suggested Family Night at the DMV. No, this was Family Night at the pool. Heidi had wanted to take swim lessons so she’d be ready for summer, but all the sessions were full, then when I crunched the numbers I realized we could attend the weekly Family Night at the pool and all swim together for the same price. We made the plan. I followed my tried-and-true method for introducing my boy to a new activity:
I told him about it the week before.
I told him about it three days before.
I told him about it the day before.
I told him about it that morning.
I told him about it after dinner.
I told him about it 15 minutes before.
I told him about it 10 minutes before.
I told him about it five minutes before.
But now it was time to go and now it was time for him to slip into I-hate-trying-new-things-mode. It’s not that he doesn’t like to swim. He loves it. It’s not as if we were planning an activity he loathed. It’s just that he’s never done this exact activity before.
Thankfully, we’ve done this a few times. I told him he didn’t have to get in the water, he could bring a book and sit on the side while we swam. But I suggested he bring his swimsuit …. just in case. (Smile) Heidi leaned in close to me before we walked out the door and whispered knowingly, “Once he gets there he’s gonna love it.” I nodded and she smiled wide. She’s done this a few times too.
I must say, Spring Break was a poor week for our first Family Night. As Heidi and I emerged from the ladies locker room we saw about 53,000 children and parents splashing and shouting and shouting and splashing and my sensory-overload alarm started blaring in my brain as my eyes glazed over and I was rendered suddenly incoherent: Why am I here?
I scanned the sea of flailing arms and faces and finally found Jeff beaming, waving us over. Beside him was begoggled Dutch, dipping and diving and bobbing up and down. I stepped into the water and he rushed through the water to my side, breathless with excitement:
“Mommy! I did a double somersault without even coming up for oxygen!” He shook his head amazed, high as a kite with the exhilaration of achievement. “Sky’s the limit now!”
And with that he was underwater again, leaving Jeff and me laughing out loud, mouthing to each other across the swimming heads between us: Sky’s the limit now!
That’s our boy.
That’s just it though, isn’t it? For me too. Really it’s just that one hump I’ve got to get over. That one scary thing. Aren’t we all just kids who must do One Brave Thing today, and then maybe again tomorrow? My mind knows that swimming, faith, is not that bad. In fact, it’ll probably be fun. But sometimes I’d still rather stay here on the couch and burrow my head into a pillow.
But really, all I have to do is jump on in. Once I hop in the pool the work is really done. Right?
Sky’s the limit now!
{Oh the fun of raising kids and BEING kids. May you jump in! Happy weekend.}