Pool Cues

by Matt


Carrie & I started a swimming class for the girls on Monday nights. It gets them used to being in a real pool, and so far (it's been two weeks) it gets them used to the idea of kicking and paddling. I love it. It's been a lot of fun so far. I don't often get to use a pool, and lately I've been really into swimming.

At the first lesson, the instructor asked us to each stay with one child. I took L, and Carrie took E. One of the first exercises was to get your kid to lay on their stomach, while you hold them under their stomach, and float. You're supposed to try and keep them away from your body, with your arms stretched out, so they don't try to grab onto you.

When we first got into the water, L was on me like I had decided to step into molten lava, and that she got stuck with me. I almost choked twice. She was very upset, and kept saying, "Don't let go of me, Daddy! Don't let go!" I told her she would be fine, and that I wouldn't let go.

She calmed down for a bit, and we were able to try the belly float. I started to pry her fingers from around my neck, and hold her out. She immediately let out a blood curdling scream. In a room with 20 parents of toddlers, she barely turned a head. But it was all I could do from not getting crazy mad.

Brief aside: I'm really sensitive about my ears. As a musician, they're my life's blood. I have a type of musician earplugs that block out certain frequencies on a gig that would damage my eardrum. I just bought some noise reducing ear buds, so I can listen to my iPod even lower. Sometimes baths are insane. While they're shrieking in joy from playing in the tub, I feel like I'm suffering a auditory/mental attack.

Before I could react to her shriek, she looked at me with tears in her eyes and said:

"Daddy, PLEASE don't let go of me!"

Over the previous week, we had been talking about some of the things that have been going on in Japan, and how some people were hurt by the tsunami. I didn't tell her that so many people died, but she's sort of aware of the concept of death. We had to explain to her, a few weeks back, about the loss of her grandparent's dog. Before this, I don't think she even thought someone, or something, wouldn't be there.

But now, I could see in her eyes that she was scared. She was aware that something terrible could happen if I let go of her. While I knew that nothing would, the chance that something could was too much for her to bear.

I immediately remembered being about 8 or 9 years old. I was in a neighbor's swimming pool for a neighborhood barbecue. My dad walked over, plate in hand and said, "You alright, Matt?"

I was gripping the side of the pool. It couldn't have been more than three feet deep, but I was scared. I wasn't a good swimmer, but I liked being in the water.

"Yeah, dad. Just a little nervous"

"Of what?", he said.

"I'm scared of not being able to stay afloat in the water."

"You'll be okay," he said. "You've swum in pools like this before. But remember, if anything should happen, I'll jump right in and get you."

"Really?", I said. "Shoes & everything?"

"Shoes & everything. I promise."

After waiting a beat, I let go and swam out to the middle. I turned back to my dad, and smiled. He was right. I was fine. It turns out I just needed a little reassurance.

So I looked at L, and calmly said, "L, it's okay. I've got you. I'm not going to let you go. We're going to try to swim on your belly."

"You're not going to let go?!?!", she said through tears.

"Never", I said, firmly.

So she timidly let go of my neck, reached out and floated over my hands. After a few balancing issues, she was kicking and paddling like Aquaman. This past week, she was kicking off the side wall into my arms, all by herself. At the end of the first session though, everyone knew how she was doing:

"I'M SWIMMING!!!!"