I’ve been meaning to write this post all week, but just haven’t quite got round to it. Well here it is…
This is a re-blog post originally posted by Pennie Parry and published with kind permission.
The original post can be found here.
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On Sunday is was a very wet, rainy day with us, so my hubby and I decided to take the kidlets swimming. For those of you that know me well it’s not one of my favourite past times (although I am quite ashamed to say it, as the kidlets adore swimming) My “non love” mainly comes from being totally blind without my glasses on, and a “larger than I would like” kind of body that doesn’t look particularly great in a swimming cozzy! That aside… off we went!
The kids were literally whooping with joy, the main reason being, the pool we go to is an Olympic sized pool with diving boards to match. Last time they went with Daddy, they talked him into letting them have a go on these diving boards, they already know at this young age that daddy is easier to win over than mummy!
As we approach the boards I hear my oldest kidlet dare the youngest into going on the 7m board first!!! My youngest who is such a dare devil and relishes any challenge answered “Sure… let me get wet, then I’ll do it!”
Maybe in hindsight his response should have been more along the lines of “You show me how to do it first, and then I will”
But true to his word after getting wet, he began the long and arduous climb up the three flights of steps that led to the top diving platform. My heart was literally pumping in my chest, my hands were clammy, and my breathing had definitely shortened! We’d had a little “pep talk” before he set off about making sure he jumped feet first etc etc etc
So there he was standing with his little tippy toes over the edge of the platform, I could hardly watch. By this point he had gathered quite a few spectators both on the pool side and in the seated stands. I could see him talking to himself and counting 1,2,3!
As he walked back down the steps I heard a group of lovely teenage boys shout to him “Come on mate you can do it!” (these are the boys that too don’t have the nerve and have stopped on the 2nd platform!)
So once again my lovely brave boy begins the ascent to the top. He looks at me for support and it took all my will to give him the thumbs up and a blow of a kiss to show him he really could do it. There he stands with his little swimming trunks, tiny little legs, his toes once again hanging over the edge, he keeps looking at my hubby and I for moral support (my heart now pumping so hard I can literally feel it in my mouth)
This time I can see his method has changed… rather than counting up 1,2,3 he begins counting down 10,9,8,7,6… as he approaches 2,1 I can sense that he is actually going to do it, his body begins to move as he gets to 1 and suddenly he is in mid air!
All we can hear is the whoops and cheers of the people watching and a slight screech coming form this little ball of energy that is now hurtling towards the splash pool. I have never been so pleased to see Sam coming up for air as I was after he had done this, he casually swan to the side, jumped out and shouts “wow everyone did you see that flip? That was awesome!!”
And there you have it… a perfect example of taking a risk. I could have been the mummy sat on the side telling him that it was very dangerous, and he could break his neck, and maybe he should wait until he’s older… blah blah blah. Instead of which, I walked out of the pool that day with my head held high, knowing that a little part of me helped my little one to feel like he was a million dollars. My lovely mum always says “You’ve got to give a child roots and wings, roots to know they are stable… and wings to let them fly!”
- Image Credits: Featured Image (Wings) by Kirsten Pauli on Flickr Under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 2.0 Generic (CC BY-NC 2.0).
- All other images appeared on the original blog post.