Treading water

I missed Henry's first swim meet, which was Sunday, because I went home to say goodbye to Les. I found myself wracked with Mommy-guilt as I prepared for the trip, hand-wringing over the decision. Henry was less emotional. Before I left, he said, "It's ok Mom. I'll be fine. But when you get back, will you please stop crying?"

I'm still working on that.

I had the next best thing to being there, though, on my drive back to Iowa Sunday morning. Tim texted me the play-by-play on the way. As I read the updates, I realized it was probably a good thing I wasn't at the pool. I would have been more nervous than the kid, and I, no doubt, would have made him a mess in the process.

The iPhone commentary went something like this:

Tim: Chaos. Or so it seems to me. He's been Sharpie'd though, so he looks like he fits in. (Sharpie'd: had his races and lane assignments written in black permanent marker on his arm)

Tim: He's warming up. I'm nervous for him. His start looks waaaay better than a couple days ago.

Me: Crossing my fingers!

Tim: DQ. (disqualified)

Me: Shoot.

Tim: He's OK with it, I think.

Me: Tell him I'm proud no matter what!

Tim: Backstroke in about 10 minutes.

Tim: (10 minutes later)...Oh dear.

Me: What???

Tim: False start. And they couldn't get him to stop. So he did the whole thing solo.

Tim: Big ovation at the end

Me: Was he the false start?

Tim: Yep.

Me: Oh well.

Tim: Ya. Went again with the big kids. DQ.

Me: Tell him not to be too bummed.

Tim: He's fine. They gave him a ribbon.

Me: One more to go!

Tim: Yep. H is up again in about 5 minutes.

Tim: He didn't DQ this time! He didn't win. But he didn't DQ!

I'd call that a win.
Even better, he left the meet stoked about swimming and said, "I can't wait for my next meet!"

And in honor of the DQs, we took him for a M&Ms mini blizzard that night.