This was my six-year-old at the beginning of the summer, upset because his sisters were splashing him in the face when he wanted to sit in the wading pool. (As you can see in the background, the two-year-old could care less about how wet she became.) It may sound silly, but this attitude stemmed from an incident that occurred three years prior and changed my water-loving little buddy.
At three years old, H was much like his older sister, happily dunking his face, practicing blowing bubbles and kicking his legs in the adult pool. Then the day came when a family member who was supposed to be watching him looked away long enough for him to sink to the bottom of the pool where I spotted him in time for a rescue. After what seemed like minutes of listening to him cough up water, my sweet boy looked at me and said, "Momma, I sink!" So began a two year process where I was the only adult he trusted to be with him in the water.
Each summer, we enrolled our son in swimming lessons, but he took him until last summer just to be comfortable in the pool again. I have struggled not to show my despair . . . I grew up on the water and could swim like a fish from a very young age. My older daughter could swim by the age of four, and the baby is already dunking herself and happily comes up spluttering. I lamented that my son would miss out on all the fun I experienced in the pool, river, and ocean. More importantly, I worried about his ability to keep himself afloat long enough for someone to rescue him should the need arise.
This July brought us to a different pool and a new swim instructor. I was able to convince H to give her a try once I told him she was also a lifeguard. (To him, I suppose that meant there was no way she was going to let him sink and leave him there.) For the first few days, I was just happy to see him trying. He mostly used a kick board or a noodle, but he never quit, even when he swallowed water. I decided I would be happy if he could just learn to doggie-paddle on his own at the end of two weeks. So imagine my surprise, on day five, when I saw my son swim both freestyle and butterfly ALL ON HIS OWN!
Granted, it is only three to four strokes at a time before he takes a break, but I was not sure we would ever reach this point! I think by the end of the summer, I'll have an actual swimmer on my hands.
Of course, all of this had led me to think back to my own days of lessons. I was fortunate that our family belonged to a members-only pool, so while busy, it was never terribly crowded. We had room to practice our skills (not to mention tricks) and the lifeguards would give us tips even when we were not in lessons. Also, as I mentioned, growing up on the water meant this was a life-saving skill and not just a fun past-time. Occasionally, a friend would invite me to go with them to the public pool, and I absolutely hated it. Want to know why? The crowds! You had to have permission from a lifeguard before using the diving board because there were usually so many people in the pool you would hit someone when you dove. There was rarely much "swimming" going on - the throngs were so thick standing in the pool there wasn't room for any strokes. As an adult, I wonder how many of those people could swim. I think most of them were there just to cool off, and it makes me even more grateful that my parents were so insistent that I not only be able to swim but to do it well.
For now, I'll concentrate on the happiness of my newest little fish . . .
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