(On the way home from swim lessons)
I'm sitting here EX-HAUS-TED, on a Tuesday night at 7pm. Why, you wonder? Because I had only the best week of my life last week (sentence structured to give a shout out to one of my fall favorites--You've Got Mail).
It started a bit shaky. I packed up the boys (again!) to head up to Sonora for a full week of swim lessons. Trip there was great, uneventful. Harold's family was so kind to lend a vacant house for our use, which worked out great for the boys (poor Everett's second home is a laundry room).
Anyway, swim lessons started, Monday morning, 10am. Mind you, these swim lessons are not the normal, cutesy "blow bubbles, kids", swim lessons. These were the straight, cold-turkey, who cares-that-you're-crying-you're-learning-to-swim kind. Not meant for every parent, definitely meant for me. I'm a cold turkey kind of person and my kids better get used to that.
So, Monday morning.... Carter was a mess, cried the whole time. We really didn't do anything that he didn't already know how to do. He was used to putting his face under, used to jumping off the side, etc... I think it was just the fact that he was surrounded by other upset kids and that Miss Cindy would grab him and make him do stuff.
Tuesday morning... not much of a difference. Still crying, still hating the fact that he's being forced to stay in the pool for 30 mins.
Wednesday morning... still crying (yet asking at the same time to do certain tasks "again"). I drive away praying to God, "Why, Lord, am I having such a hard time with this?" I didn't have a hard time with Carter crying, it was why he was crying. Drove me mad. Everyday. I found myself embarrassed of him, and as a parent, I hated myself for feeling that way. Then God showed me (with a slight sense of humor) that Carter was not me. He is not who I was at 2 yrs old. He is his own person--sensitive, cautious, and compassionate... something I am not. I started smiling, thinking about the challenges that lie ahead of me in the years to come. I will most likely find myself feeling this way several other times in all types of scenarios, and I need to not only be cool with it, I need to appreciate it.
Then, Thursday morning... dum de da dum (drum roll, please): He laughed, swam, dove, jumped, and made me SO proud. He was so happy in the pool, he was daring, he was strong. It was awesome.
Friday morning... a fish! Granted, Cindy decided not to push the kids as hard as I would like (again, notice the non-sensitive, un-compassionate-type!), so they weren't necessarily swimming by Friday, but boy, were they comfortable under the water. What a difference.
Carter's favorite is diving for rings. It amazes me how he can dive down (with assistance), hold his breath, grab a ring from the bottom of the pool, then jump back up!
So, why I love Sonora: Every day we had swim lessons (all the girls participated plus others), then we would break for lunch/ naps.... then, after we met up at some one's house for dinner. The kids were exhausted, yet happy. We all went home to put them down for the night, then would meet up again to run together. In Bobbi's words, "absolutely blissful".
*Here's where I throw in my big, ginormous THANK YOU to Harold and my mom (Harold specifically as my mom napped a bit during swim lessons. he he.) for watching Everett everyday while I focused on dunking my kid.
For a milestone that every parent goes through, swim lessons was definitely successful and absolutely worth every tear.
Jumping off the diving board with Grammy--Miss Cindy ready to catch!
With his now favorite person, Miss Cindy