Don't Look Down

Tonight we had a very exciting new development.

The Hoodlums came home from school this afternoon all hopped up on something, so when Daveskins came home I announced, Operation: Exhaustion, and we headed to the pool. Daws has enjoyed the high dive at the pool for several months now, and Dyl has bounced on the sidelines, just itching to throw himself off the end, but just not quite daring to.

Last week he told me that his day had come, and up the tall ladder he went. He made it to where the metal bars end, and then looked down at me and said he was too scared. Fine by me. I told him to turn around and back down the steps. He did so, and repeated that same scenario 4 or 5 times before we left the pool.

Tonight, Dawson got him all pumped up for the big leap, on the way to the pool. He was pretty confident that he could do it tonight, and I jumped into the deep end, to tread and wait for him. He went up and down that ladder five times, but each trip making it to the end of the diving board, looking down at me, and shaking his head. The last time he came down the ladder, he plopped into the pool next to me, frustrated and mad. He said that it looked so far down when he was up there, but didn't look very far from where I was. I said, "Don't look down. Just look across at the wall and step off."

He shook his head and looked at me like, 'Why didn't you tell me that 5 trips up the ladder ago?' and then he was gone. I could tell something was different that time, and his knees wobbled considerably less climbing the ladder. When he got to the top he hollered out to Dave and Em, who were watching from the other pool, and looked down at me for the thumbs up sign. He strode out to the end of the diving board; his confidence fading with each step.

By the time he stood perched at the edge, his little toes were clinging for their life to the end of the fiberglass. He hastily glanced back and forth from the water below, to the wall straight ahead. He looked down at me, and smiled that kind of smile, where everything from the nose up is paralyzed, and even though the edges of your mouth are turned up, you still look petrified. I just pointed at the wall, flashed a thumbs up, and he looked straight ahead and stepped off.

It all happened in slow motion and seemed to take an eternity for him to hit the water. We were all screaming and whooping and hollering. Dawson was cheering the loudest, and the look on Dyl's face when he came shooting up out of the water, got me all choked up. He was grinning from ear to ear, and doggy paddled like a maniac over to where I was.

"Didyaseeme?Didyaseeme?Didyaseeme?" like we might have turned away for a second. He jumped out of the pool, and with Dawson hot on his trail, they jumped off the high dive like hamsters in a wheel, for the rest of the night. We had to pry them away from the pool, and even in the dressing room, could hardly get a word in. Dave and I just laughed at their continual recap of each and every leap of death.

The fervor continued as we went to the Gateway for dinner, to "celebrate" and because Dave didn't want to eat the healthy dinner I had planned. They were distracted momentarily by a word search on their menus, but each time Dave and I decided it was safe to launch into conversation we were interrupted by one of the Boys saying, "Can you believe what happened at the pool tonight?"

This is one of those times that I hope is burned into my mind and heart. It was a warm and fuzzy experience to have all of us so desperately hoping for the success of one person in our family, and then celebrating and having the happiness like it was our own. What a great night.