Bev and I are working this week. When we are off, we invite the boys, David and Max, to spend Friday night with us. Since that was impossible this week, I took the boys to the municipal pool this morning for a treat. Then we would later go to lunch at Burger King so they could play in the "play-place".
The fun started about 30 minutes after we'd gotten into the pool. David had found a playmate and they were out a little deeper than Max. But Max wanted to join in with the bigger kids. Max worked his way out further and further by staying up on tip-toes until the water was up to his nose. Then he went a little further so that he could only catch a breath when he made little bounds. And then with a misplaced bound, he went further than he intended and now the water line was up over his eyebrows. Now as he bounds I can see he can't quite get his nose above water. As I quickly start across the pool, I can see surprise in Max's eyes and his rapid bounds take him a little further away and a bit deeper. With David right beside him, but unaware of his difficulty, I call to him to help his brother. I call a second time, but he still hasn't noticed Max. With my third call, he turns, scoops Max by the waist, and lifts him up out of the water. I can see water running out of ears, and eyes, and nose, and mouth.
Of course, I was closing the gap as I spoke. I was only a step away as David lifted him clear and had him in my arms in a flash. With water still streaming off him, I borrowed a page from my friend Coach Dan Perkins. Using the same unruffled approach as Coach I asked, "Max, are you trying to drink my pool?" Then I said, "If you do, we're going to have to get the hose out and fill it up again." It worked as well with Max as it did with Coach Perkins' daughter all those years ago. He told me that he needed to see him Mommy so I put him out on the side and asked him to come back in when he was ready. In less than a minute, he was back playing in the SHALLOW end.
Later at lunch I praised David for "saving" his brother. An exaggeration, I don't think so. I was on my way to succor him but it was David that lifted him to air. Could the time it took me to take those 2 final steps made a difference? Perhaps. I felt this was a teaching moment. One where his role as big brother could be defined and reinforced. A moment for him to see that being a hero was within his grasp.
(When called upon to save Max, you should have seen how he lifted him. Superman couldn't have done better.)
The fun started about 30 minutes after we'd gotten into the pool. David had found a playmate and they were out a little deeper than Max. But Max wanted to join in with the bigger kids. Max worked his way out further and further by staying up on tip-toes until the water was up to his nose. Then he went a little further so that he could only catch a breath when he made little bounds. And then with a misplaced bound, he went further than he intended and now the water line was up over his eyebrows. Now as he bounds I can see he can't quite get his nose above water. As I quickly start across the pool, I can see surprise in Max's eyes and his rapid bounds take him a little further away and a bit deeper. With David right beside him, but unaware of his difficulty, I call to him to help his brother. I call a second time, but he still hasn't noticed Max. With my third call, he turns, scoops Max by the waist, and lifts him up out of the water. I can see water running out of ears, and eyes, and nose, and mouth.
Of course, I was closing the gap as I spoke. I was only a step away as David lifted him clear and had him in my arms in a flash. With water still streaming off him, I borrowed a page from my friend Coach Dan Perkins. Using the same unruffled approach as Coach I asked, "Max, are you trying to drink my pool?" Then I said, "If you do, we're going to have to get the hose out and fill it up again." It worked as well with Max as it did with Coach Perkins' daughter all those years ago. He told me that he needed to see him Mommy so I put him out on the side and asked him to come back in when he was ready. In less than a minute, he was back playing in the SHALLOW end.
Later at lunch I praised David for "saving" his brother. An exaggeration, I don't think so. I was on my way to succor him but it was David that lifted him to air. Could the time it took me to take those 2 final steps made a difference? Perhaps. I felt this was a teaching moment. One where his role as big brother could be defined and reinforced. A moment for him to see that being a hero was within his grasp.
(When called upon to save Max, you should have seen how he lifted him. Superman couldn't have done better.)