In Medias Res

We joined a pool this summer. Good timing on this one, as Colorado Springs is on course to set all kinds of records for frequent high temps. But it's a dry heat.

Yesterday, Gemma again announced that she would try to jump off the diving board. On other days, she has climbed up, walked to the edge, then turned around. "It's OK," I've been telling her. "I don't blame you for being scared. One day you'll be ready."

She met a friend her age who jumps off the board and then swims on her own to the ladder without so much as arm floaties. Arden's performance in this way was too much for Gemma to observe unanswered. So, as I said, she made an announcement.

I walked to the board with her, she fiddled with the buckles on her swim vest, then climbed on, and then reversed course. Again.

Another girl's father who was there asked if it would help for someone to be in the deep end waiting for her. Gemma nodded. I said, "If I get into the pool, then you HAVE to jump because I'm going to be pretty annoyed if I get wet for nothing."

The father said, "Oh, I'll get in for her."

How nice.

Moments later, Gemma was perched on the end and the father was patting the water right below her saying, "Just jump right here."

The other 28 people at the pool were watching now, too, and were starting to shout things like, "You can do it!" and "Just jump!"

I counted to 3 for her and, 1. . .2 . . .3 -- Gemma jumped!

All 28 people cheered and applauded! It choked me up.


Then Joshua decided he would jump, too. Odd, though: He jumped off the board 2 weeks ago. Several times. Now, he was 3 steps away from the ladder on his journey to the edge when he halted, turned to me and said, "I love you, Mom."

The crowd laughed. What? Was he never to return?

He took another step. That girl's father started encouraging him and patting the water in front of the landing zone. Josh turned again to me and said, "I would be happier if it was you."

Geez. . . If this conversation had been private, I'd have told him he could either jump with that guy, or with no one, or not jump at all. But the whole crowd was in on this exchange and I was not willing to be a Bad Mother this early in the summer.

I jumped in. Paddled over. Tread water. All with a big smile because I was just so dang delighted to be playing the Diving Board Game.

Josh inched to the edge. I patted the water. I encouraged. I counted up to 3. I counted down from 5.

The crowd encouraged. And counted with me. And 3 boys around 10 or 11 started chanting, "Let's Go Jo-osh, Let's Go!" CLAP CLAP "Let's Go Jo-osh, Let's Go!" CLAP CLAP

The atmosphere could not have been more supportive. Then Josh said something. The crowd hushed and strained to hear. I asked, "What was that?"

He said, simply, "I would be happier if they--" (then he got loud for this part) "STOPPED SCREAMING!"

This got a big laugh.

Then Gemma piped up, from where she stood fourth in line for the diving board, "Come on, Josh!"

Another big laugh.

What was I to do? If I were standing by the board, I'd have coaxed him off. But I was on the jumping end of the board and the most I could do was wait.

The Pool Director stepped onto the board behind him and announced, "I'll help you." Before Joshua knew it, she'd grabbed his hands and initiated a countdown from 5 and, after "1," she tossed him in.

The crowd erupted in whoops and cheering and clapping. Yay, Josh!

Then Gemma went off again, this time without fanfare, and still got applause.

Then Joshua again and he announced right away, "I want someone to help me," so some other woman climbed on board and "helped" him, as before. Much applause.

The third time, he needed no help and it's the cutest thing when he goes on his own: he doesn't just jump, he tucks his knees up into a tidy cannon ball.

And this--this jumping unaided by the both of them, and, yes, all the rest of the dog paddling and going under without any fuss and meeting friends there and spending hours and hours in the water without a care in the world--all this has been the accomplishment of our summer so far.

In our view, it's record-setting.