Walking Tall Mom

　

Raising kids isn't always easy, especially in the summertime. The first week that school is out anything pleases them. The week after that...not so much. I consider myself lucky that for most of my kids childhood, we had a pool or a river somewhere, most of the time. It seemed that wherever we moved there was a pool or a friend with a place on the river, that we could go spend time and make those long hot days seem fun, rather than just hot!

My kids learned how to swim at an early age and were quite good at it, leaving me the luxury of laying back and watching them, with that one eye open at all times. It always seemed to me that the one eye didn't even blink while my kids were in the water. I was the mom that always knew which wet head at the deep end belonged to me. A certain amount of fear that I would miss something, like them getting too full of water and sinking to the bottom, wouldn't allow me to close both eyes at the same time.
One Fourth of July, the day came. I had stared at that head long enough to know when it was bobbing up and down in a panic, and not just for fun! I wasn't dressed to go swimming that day, since I had to man the food stand later. Never one to worry overmuch about how I dressed or looked, into the pool I dove, shoes and all.

The lifeguard and I reached him at the exact same time. She on one side and me on the other, we hauled him up out of the water. Spluttering and gasping he reached up for me and held on for dear life. The lifeguard and I exchanged looks of gratitude and took him to the side. Of course, being the type of mother that I am, I only let him get his breath back and shoved him back in the water again. As he looked up at me, struggling to decide if I had stopped loving him or if I were just plain crazy, he slowly began to relax. He did of course wonder for a moment if he ever wanted to swim again, I smiled and told him he would be fine from now on, just go have fun. It took all of five minutes for him to forget all about it. Not me.

The lifeguard came and sat beside me offering me a towel. I had of course not brought one for myself and gratefully excepted. Being young, she was worried that I thought less of her for not getting to him before I did. I assured her that I knew she had seen him at the same time I did and didn't mind at all that we were both there when he needed us. Of course from that day on, two eyes were always open, never again assuming that my kids were immune to danger, just because they were good swimmers. The other side of that coin was that my kids knew I would always be there to save them, even if there was a lifeguard on duty. I grew several inches in height that day in my kids eyes and I must admit, I enjoyed it immensely for some time to come. Meaning, until they became teens! Oh boy, was that a comedown. They were sure that I couldn't possibly know anything at my old age.

But before they reached the age of all knowing, those long summer days had gotten boring and they were searching in vain for something to do. Something fun of course. By this time the pool was in the back yard and they had a tendency to get bored with it. I put on my thinking cap and came up with an idea. An idea that to this day my son just can't get over. He tells his friends that nobody else had a mom that would demand such things of her kids.

I went into my wood shop and came out with three pairs of stilts. Suddenly, I was an amazing mom. But they were stumped about how to go about using them. Yes, this is where I rose to new heights in there eyes, as I stepped up on the stilts and took off across the yard. All the kids were running behind me laughing and begging to have a try. Yes, I was the tallest mom around that day. Each one tried and tried until they finally got the hang of it. Of course their admiration that I could so easily climb up on them and walk anywhere I chose was still there.

I never told them that my own father had made us a pair when I was their age. I had remembered the joy when I had mastered walking on stilts and I wanted them to realize the same feelings. After all, not every kid on the block has stilts! Well, none of the kids in our neighborhood had them, making it all the more special.

They didn't know then that the lesson to be learned was making use of what you have, and not crying about what you don't. It did eventually sink in for my kids. I might not always have something up my sleeve, but most of the time I could come up with something to spark their interest.

Today, my son is still amazed that I would make them learn how to walk on stilts. They came in handy at Halloween that year too, as I made them into" walking tall scarecrows"!