Lean In

July 30, 2026

The water is frigid.

How many minutes can I stand this?

Just a few more I tell myself…

You might think I was stuck in a sputtering river stream full of ice water. No, I was in a hotel pool. It was the second day of our family vacation, with a late evening stop at a hotel to break up the long drive. Our annual exploration of national parks had begun. With South Dakota and northern Wyoming as the destination, we mapped out a two day drive to Devils Tower as the first stop. Our appetites were happily resting after a delicious dinner, so we found to a hotel to turn in for the evening. Too early for bed, but not enough time for another excursion. What to do, what to do? “How’s that even a question,” my daughter exclaims, having seen water slides popping out of the hotel wall as we parked.

So I took her down to a pretty impressive indoor swimming arena. The scene included a lazy river, kids’ pirate ship, and a flower shaped pool. Large winding stairs led to an opening for two different water slide options - a red single person tube, and a yellow giant tube that was begging for a gaggle of ten-year-old boys to pile in together and crash down the slippery slide. That skit played out several times, with the number of screams and flailing limbs escalating each trip down what looked like a rock tumbler.

The only issue was the temperature of the water. My weird body continues to get worse at handling the cold, especially water. But children change the calculation. No matter how much discomfort I feel, the joy of watching my daughter smile and laugh is too good. So it becomes a balancing act. We usually find a halfway solution that includes a level of engagement and observation. Yes I’ll play for 20 minutes, then I am going to watch from the side for a while.

Immediately upon plopping my body into the lazy river, I told my daughter we might have an issue. Even she was stunned at the low temperature of the water, letting out a little yelp as the cold hit her. I reminded myself that being a good dad means doing things that aren’t my first, second, or even tenth choice.

A few minutes in, I’m ready to abandon all my convictions and get out of dodge. I can’t seem to focus on anything except how freezing it is. Summoning a last ditch effort, I suggest a game. Let’s race along the inside of the flower pool without touching the bottom. You could only hold onto the sides. And yes, we went in opposite directions, ensuring a collision halfway through the race. Round one was fun, so we did it again. Then we started one legged jumps in the water, holding the other leg up as high as we could. She’s a ballerina, so her right leg rested against her forehead while the left bounced effortlessly up and down in the water. I fell all over myself.

Then a predictable thing happened. I stopped thinking about the temperature of the liquid my body was immersed in. We invented new games. I held onto her legs and pulled her through the waves like a horse attached to a chariot. She attempted the same. We raced each other down the tubes. We disregarded the whole concept of lazy, and made it a crazy river.

By the time we were toweling off at 10:00 PM, I knew this goofy hour in the pool already had the potential to be the highlight of the trip, and we hadn’t even been to one park yet. My daughter confirmed it when she sincerely thanked me back at the room. Even at 12, she has a high level of empathy. She knew that I had to break through some kind of mental barrier to arrive at the fun part. What an awesome kid.

Parenting seems to provide these opportunities over and over again. Do you hold back, or lean in? I don’t know what my running average is, I only know that every time I choose the latter, I capture a special memory. In the end, the whole trip produced several meaningful experiences. We saw amazing landscapes, talked to wonderful people, and loved every minute of being together out on the road. And yet, a few weeks removed from it all, I keep thinking about the freezing pool and the joy that outlined my daughter's smile.