Letting Go

 "A mother holds her childrens' hands for a while, but their hearts forever." 

     Um, in regards to the whole "hand holding for a while" meaning a short time, apparently not me and not if we're at the pool.  Sorry, but I didn't get that memo.  And especially if one of those children is not even two-years old and is already a self-proclaimed "Evil Kenevil".  I thought I was a hovering momma at the playground, well, you ain't seen nothing if we're at the pool.  I actually had a man laugh at me because I couldn't let go of my son at one point, although Li'l B was pushing me away and saying, "Let go, mommy!", but we'll get to that in a moment. 

     The kiddies wanted to go to our local YMCA to go swimming, and my hubby and I thought that this was an excellent way to wear them out before naps, er, I mean a very good family outing, making special memories and all that.  We get there, get everyone stripped down to their bathing suits in the family changing room and proceed to the pool.  Miss G of course runs into the shallow end and by shallow, I mean to her knees..  (I know this child will not do anything that would make her head or hair even touch the water, so I watch her while trying to hold Li'l B's hand to guide him slowly into the water.  He is not even two, so his balance is not that of a trapeze walker.  Naturally, or should I say, instinctively, he says, "No, mommy," as he pushes my hand away.  Lately, I've become so accustomed to this gesture that the tears have finally ceased to exist.  I say, "Okay," and put my hands up in front of me in a "I surrender" gesture and he proceeds to walk out into the water.  Now, my hubby has been taking him for swim lessons, or them just playing in the water, for a little while now while I watch our daughter at ballet class, so he is in the know of what Li'l B is capable of handling, aquatics-wise.  I am still right behind Li'l B in case he falls.  My stomach at this point has moved to my throat with every little misstep.  I look over at my hubby and say, "Maybe we should get him one of the life jackets to wear, you know, in case he slips or something."  My husband laughs and says, "Seriously?  The water is to his shins, he's fine.  We do this all the time in his lessons.  You need to calm down a little bit."  He was lucky that all he got was a glare for that. 

     We proceed to where it is a little deeper, making our way to a water playground where they can slide, play under the shooting water, etc.  *Stomach still in throat as the water has now gone over his trunks* He's on a mission though, sure to get out to the stairs that lead up to a *gulp* water slide.  This water slide is not very extravagant, but to a mommy of a little guy, it looks like something at an actual water park.  Li'l B proceeds to climb the stairs, me right beside him, fighting with him to hold my hand.  Naturally, he refuses.  And, I'm the only parent going up with her small child.  I really couldn't have given two flying, well, you know how that phrase turns out.  Anywho, he makes it to the top only to then be overtaken by the stage fright.  *Mommy exhales and does a happy dance internally*  Then his father at the bottom yells, "Come on, bud!  You can do it!"  Again, he got a glare.  So Li'l B decides, "Yes, I'm going to do this."  He sits down and I'm holding onto his arm.  He says, "Let go, mommy."  And I reply, "Honey, mommy can't."  This kid literally went down almost half the slide with me clinging to his arm until he got to a point where I couldn't reach without going down the slide with him....and I let go.  I think my heart stopped while watching him slide down by himself, imagining him toppling backwards and the water that pools at the bottom covering him like a blanket, him not knowing how to hold his breath underwater...I have an overactive imagination as if you couldn't tell by now.  Instead, he sat the whole way down, squealing, his daddy catching him at the bottom, and he turned to me and yelled proudly, "Mommy!! Again!"  *Stomach, back up  into my throat.*

     See, as parents, we always see our children as babies, helpless without us, not knowing what to do in life without our guidance or protection.  (And mine are only toddlers, this is magnified I'm sure for those with older children.)  "They need me, I must protect them, what if they get hurt, what if they don't know what to do?"  I guarantee all these question cross my mind daily, and yes, sometimes I think, "Maybe extremely nervous Nellie's are not meant to have children, some days, it's torture!"  But I have to realize that if I hover over them and make their decisions or hold them back from exploring, they're not going to experience beautiful things in life.  Yes, they may even fall *gasp* and get hurt, but that's also an experience and a learning opportunity that they must go through.  I can protect them for so long, but I must stop overprotecting.  And for the record, mom or dad, if you're reading this, I totally get what you went through now, and I have nothing but the up most love and respect for you.  (Quit grinning.) 

     My favorite part of today was when I let go.  Because the utter joy and excitement that I saw flash across my little man's face, well, you couldn't have put a price on it.  He was so proud. And if I had held on, it never would have been.