Last night for Family Home Evening (and in honor of Presidents Day) we took the kids swimming at the aquatic center. Andrea spent most of her time in the shallow end with Gwen and Miri, while Bekah, Ana, and I spent most of our time bobbing around the rest of the pool, floating and playing tag and having "torpedo races."
Prior to last night, Bekah had jumped off the low dive one, maybe two times. As we got to the pool last night she told me, "Dad, I'm not sure if I want to do the diving board." "Okay, sweetie," I said. "Whatever you want to do." But after fifteen or twenty minutes in the water she had worked up enough nerve that I accompanied her to the deep end where she trepidatiously walked to the end of the board, hopped off, and triumphantly swam to the side.
Twenty minutes later, we returned again to the deep end. This time she was a little less hesitant, even throwing her arms and legs into the air as she jumped and doing a bounce or two on the board before plunging in. I followed her off the low dive each time, working on my flipping skills, because there's nothing people to see more than a hairy 31 year-old man doing flips off the low dive.
Finally, as we neared the end of public swim hours, she asked, "Can we go a few more times?" "Okay," I said. "How many more times?" "Five."
Times one through four showed a continued increase in bravery and skill. Finally, it was time for the last jump. I could tell she was psyching herself up for something.
"I want to do it, Dad. I want to do the high dive."
"Oh, Rebekah. Are you sure? You don't have to."
"I want to Dad."
So we waited in line. As we neared the front of it, I listened to her talking to herself. "Ohhhhh, I don't want to. I'm too scared. But I do want to. I really do. But it's really high." Back and forth, back and forth. By this time, Andrea and the little girls had come to the edge of the pool to watch.
I was sure she was going to talk herself down. But finally, with nobody between her and that long climb, she grasped the ladder rungs and pulled herself up to the top of the diving board. Then, to my utter astonishment, she walked to the end and jumped off.
Elated, I climbed up the board and flung myself off as well, then swam to the edge of the pool laughing and beaming. "I did it, Dad! I did it! It was so scary, I thought I was going to die, but it was so awesome. Only my hands really hurt because the water smacked them, and my swimsuit rode way up, but I DID IT!" I picked her up and twirled her around in my arms. "Bekah, I'm SO proud of you! That was so brave."
And it was. Rebekah has, for a long time, been the most "cautious" of our children. But now there's a new kid in town, a brave kid, and no high dive is safe.