lawnrrd | OK, So Some of It Doesn't Suck

We were in the Hamptons this weekend, at the home of friends who have a pool. Leo and I (and the friends' kids, for that matter) spent a lot of time in the pool, especially Saturday, which was sunny and warm.

For a while, Leo and I were playing a game in the pool that involved my picking him up and throwing him several feet through the air, whereupon he would land on his belly in the water. Despite several months of lessons, though, Leo's not yet much of a swimmer, so he held a swim noodle across his chest, with one end sticking out under each arm. (Pictures are forthcoming.)

He lost the noodle in midflight one time. I had thrown him a few feet above the water and had time before he splashed down to think, "oh, shit!" and moved to get him. He was totally submerged for a split-second, though, while I grabbed him and lifted him back up.

The expression on his face was exactly the same as it had been when he had landed with the noodle to keep from going too far down on impact and to keep him on the surface afterwards. There was a smile and not a hint of fear. And he demanded, yet again, that I throw him another time. I want to think that he simply, literally could not imagine that I would let anything happen to him, that I would catch him and keep him safe, whether the noodle were there or not.

He has plenty of time to learn my limitations and his mothers', to learn about the world's real dangers, and to learn to rely on himself. But before he can learn to trust himself, he has to learn what he can do. Before he can learn what he can do, he has to try to do things. And to be willing to try them, he has to feel that he will not thereby come to harm.

I think that I make my son feel safe. And I don't think that I've ever felt prouder of myself.