I jumped off the high dive this weekend. Yes, I was terrified and I almost didn’t do it. I waited until the very last second of adult swim (the 10 minutes of every hour that kids have to get out of the pool). As the clock ticked down I reminded myself that I wanted to live life more fully with my kids. So, I gathered my cojones and started up the ladder, their excited cheers keeping me moving.
When I got up there I realized it was much higher than I expected. I slowly walked to the end of the board, fighting every urge to climb back down. I thought of watching both my kids face this moment and how they stepped off despite their fear.
It’s so easy to watch them jump with an attitude like ‘been there done that, now it’s their turn’. The fact is, when you haven’t done it in years, it becomes new and hard and scary again. I realized I didn’t like the attitude I had, I don’t want to be a smug grown-up.
So, I did it. I stepped off the edge. And I screamed all the way down. I earned some chuckles from the other adults (a pretty rapt audience since NOBODY else was in the pool) and an impressed nod from another mom. I laughed at my ridiculous scream, embarrassed but also…proud.
I gained a newfound respect for my kids after that dive.
They are braver than me.
I have some catching up to do.