In my younger years I’d see those moms take forever to get in the water, squealing the whole time about how cold it is and I vowed:
That will never be me.
And now it is.
We took our children swimming in the lake this weekend. We took our 3-year-old off the end of the pier. The water was cold and she screamed the whole time. My husband brought her out to sit on the pier with her brother, grandma, and aunt.
Since I’ve had my daughter, I’ve been very slow to get into the water, squealing about how cold I am. I usually take at least 5 minutes to go down the stairs. Then it takes me another 5-10 minutes to get into the water up to my neck. Forget about dunking my head in even though I promised myself I would always completely submerge myself!
This weekend, I counted out loud to 10 to gather up the courage. I had to “gather up the courage” about 4 times over and I still hadn’t gone under. I thought I would just walk out until the water was up to my shoulders. I got to the small of my back and turned around. I “gathered my courage” a few more time. Still dry on top.
I walked closer to the pier and thought if my daughter saw me, I’d be forced to get wet. No dice.
Somehow I managed to make myself see how ridiculous I was being and dove in (keeping my face and hair above water of course!). I swam around and my body got used to the temperature so fast.
How did becoming a mother turn me into such a wimp about diving into the water?