Mom, I Got This...

Evie and I before we left for the NOT Back to School Pool Party

I carefully read the sign...then I RE-read the sign.

Slide Rules: No lap sitting, even for small children. Single rider only.

SINGLE RIDER ONLY?

"Evie," I said, "We can't go down together. The sign says you have to go alone."

My heart sank. I knew she loved water slides...we spent so many fun days at Noah's Ark in Wisconsin Dells when we lived near there. But, I couldn't think of the last time she had been on a water slide where you don't have a raft around you, and I wasn't sure that she wouldn't panic and get an arm or leg caught inside the tube. All of the dangers of this came rushing to the front of my mind like a tragic news story on 20/20.

Jeff snapped this photo of us in the car before we left. 

Good Evening, I'm Barbara Walters and this is Hugh Downs. We begin tonight with a tragic story of a blind girl who broke several limbs when she was stuck in a waterslide in Northern Nevada. Her negligent mother spoke to us earlier today...

"So..." Evie began, "Yes, I want to go."

"You want to go on the waterslide?" I repeat after her to clarify her intention.

"Yes. I-I-I got this, Mom."

"Honey, I can't go down with you. Do you know how to cross your arms and slide down? You have to go feet first?"

My blood pressure begins to rise, I start to sweat and I hear a buzzing in my ears. Even scarier than her potential disappointment is, apparently to me, her desire to do this INDEPENDENTLY!

"Yes, mom," Evie says, "I can do this. O-o-n my own." Her regular stutter is incredibly subdued when she is being assertive with me...good for her!

I grab a life jacket off the wall and fasten the straps around her. She looks like my little girl going in the kiddie pool with her goggles and wet hair, and yet she isn't that little girl anymore. She's going to go on this big, gigantic, looping, swooping, water-rushing water slide all by herself.

I proceed to follow her up the stairs to where the lifeguards are loading the children (and some adults) into the watery SHOOTS OF DOOM (as they appear now in my mind).

Somehow the lifeguard now looks like Santa Claus in The Christmas Story when Ralphie is clutching the slide and desperately pleading for his Red Rider BB Gun...I picture the lifeguard's flip flop pushing on Evie's forehead to get her to release her grip and plunge to her liquidy fate.

I think of all the things I'll say to the lifeguard...she's blind, I need to be down there to catch her, so don't let her come down before you see me in the pool, you'll want to repeat the safety rules to her...

"Mom, leave, please...I-I got this."

I snap back from my terrifying train of thought. "What? You want me to go now? You don't want me to talk to the lifeguard?"

"No, go. Mom, I got this..."

Okay. I need to let go here. I know I need to, but it is so hard. This is where my fear and my faith collide.

"I'll be right down there when you come out of the slide. Okay? And if you change your mind, just come carefully down the stairs."

I head back down the stairs and head over to the pool where the water is rushing out and little bodies sporadically come shooting out of the tubes. I see Evie approach the lifeguard through a foggy window upstairs and she talks to him and in the blink of an eye she is one of the bodies that projectiles into the raging waters of the pool.

She did it! 

As she fights to stand up, she doesn't look too happy. She's almost stunned! I'm laughing and I say, "Honey, you did it! Wow, was that fun?"

She looks around and tries to gather herself and figure out where she is. Then she looks at me and says, "Oh! Oh! I did it! Yeah, that was fun! I'm going to go on the big one now!"

Evie proceeded to go on the bigger slide with me catching her at the end, and then she even went two more times WITHOUT me waiting for her in the pool. Just doing it all on her own. I even allowed myself to stay busy talking to another mom while watching for Evie out of the corner of my eye.

Who knew that the four sweetest words I would hear yesterday were, "Mom, I got this"?