Next month, I'll celebrate a "milestone" birthday.
I'm not one to lament the passing of time or to shrink from admitting my age, but there's something about this one. So last summer, I started thinking about what I'd like to be doing differently when May 22 rolled around. I came up with 2 items:
1. Be in better health.
2. Learn to swim.
And I have to say I've done well. Lost 30 pounds, cholesterol level is down and I'm off the meds (well, except for the thyroid stuff, which -- like the poor -- will be with me always).
So this week I started swim lessons. You have to know that, while I don't think I'd actually drown, I wouldn't be much above the "survived" mark. And my in-laws like to sail, so I thought I'd take a little pressure off The Husband, who will admit that, before most of our sails, I cheerfully remind him to decide which of us he loves most -- me or the kids -- because he can't possibly save us all if something happens.
Thankfully, class has been much better than I imagined. It wasn't me and a bunch of 12-year-olds; everyone else in the class was a bona fide grown-up. I wasn't the scardiest girl in the class, either. The instructor is the same lady who taught Boy #2's class last spring, so she's familiar. And I'm doing it so far!
I've tried very hard not to pass my fear of water on to my children, which was especially hard when Boy #1 attempted to drown himself during his first round of swim lessons a few years ago. (Misplaced confidence is a continuing theme with him.) But this takes it up a level. I think it's valuable for my boys to see me face -- and conquer -- my fears, so we've been talking a lot about what scares us and how we can approach those things.
And who knows? One of these days, you just might see me jumping off a diving board. Just not this week. . . .