For those of you that have been following, you might recall
that 2 summers ago, I made the worst parenting decision of my life. I signed up
Jonah for a swim boot camp… A week -long intensive taught by a “I swear-by-him… he’s a miracle worker… it’s
so worth the money” guy in Los Angeles. Known for his controversial, sort of,“get in the pool and swim, kid” methodology,
I wasn’t 100% convinced that this was the right thing for Jonah. HOWEVER, everyone
I knew flocked to him and I was
guaranteed that by the end of the week, Jonah would be swimming.
And he did.
For the rest of the summer he swam. Not confidently, but
enough to where I did think, (despite
the fact that he cried for 1 hour straight/ 5 days in a row), that it was worth it and that least he was “water
safe.”
Cut to last summer.
The very first moment that it was hot enough to swim and I
so much as uttered the word “pool,” Jonah flipped out. He wanted nothing to do
with water or swimming; Even though I promised him he did not need to take
lessons, and I’d never force him to do something that he wasn’t comfortable or ready for (again. Gulp), Jonah cried, “Please mommy, don’t send me to (insert
guy’s name that will make him need therapy)!!!”
So as you can well imagine, last summer was spent with me,
P, and any/ all willing adults holding
Jonah in the pool… reminding him (every 7 seconds) that we wouldn’t let him go,
and that he was okay and that although he DID/DOES know how to swim, we will
hold on to him as long as he needed….
Then… Welcome, Summer 2013.
At the first mention of school out, summer, and swim time, you probably
can guess what he asked nervously. I assured him (again), I would never ever
send him there for lessons, but that
this summer, I think in some way, it would be great to try… to learn… to
somehow swim… Maybe… Please?? With like,
lots of new cool Lego sets and games on my iPad, and milkshakes on Thursdays, would
you consider a little, kinda, sorta like a swim class at the golf club…
Because, also, remember, all of your friends are swimming. Freely.
I hardly wanted to shame him…. But with the awareness that
camp was starting and they would swim everyday, I felt like it was time to
light a little fire again. Gently. And with a flame that won’t cause
post-traumatic stress.
Guess what? I didn’t even need to get the match. (Wow, I’m
cheesy). At camp, there’s a big pool and a little pool. In order to go into the
big pool (with a deep end), the children must take a swim test. Though he was
scared, he took the test (and proved he wasn’t ready for the big pool).
Relieved, he went into the smaller pool. For two days, I think he doggy paddled
and waded his way through it. BUT something else happened, the kids that COULD
swim- his buddies- also opted for the
pee infested, sunscreen-drenched, Pacific Ocean, dirty looking, small pool too.
AND one day, (day 5, I think,) Jonah decided he could swim.
Of course, because he’s a boy (and I’m discovering certain
inherent male traits really DO start young), he didn’t tell me about this
victory that first week. (That first week, I really only heard about the fact
that he touched a Piranha shark, NO a leopard shark! at the aquarium and that I
need to stop sending cucumbers because HE. DOESN’T. LIKE. CUCUMBERS).
But I digress…
Cut to this past weekend. Swim time with the family. P and I
suit up ready for the clutch/don’t worry fest. Before we could even get in the
water though, Jonah was all the way in and said, “Watch what I can do.”
And he swam. ACROSS THE POOL. Head in the water. Feet
kicking. SWAM.
He even threw in some arm strokes.
Our mouths dropped….
We screamed. We cheered. I even cried.
He just decided to do it, he said.
“I just… I taught myself.”
For the next two hours, I watched my fish of a boy ENJOYsomething that he hated and feared for almost half his life…. With each and
every jump, kick, and plunge, I finally forgave myself for something that I
thought could not be undone.
He just taught
himself.
“Sweetheart,” I said, “I still have you signed up for
lessons at the club. You obviously know how to swim, but I still think---“
“I know, Mommy. I’m very good OF swimming. But I need to get
better with my arms. Like the, um, stokes. I mean, strokes. I’m not good OF
that yet. She can just show me that.”
Yes, she can.