My Son, The Rock

I don't expect that my son will be an olympic swimmer. In fact, when I signed him up for swim lessons this fall I had really low expectations - all I wanted is to have peace of mind that IF he would find himself in water over his head he would be able to stay afloat. That's not unreasonable right?

There are five kids in Kadin's swim class. Three girls and two boys. All three little girls are fish - they go underwater, they float, they kick their legs and use their arms and honestly for the most part they can already swim. There is maybe one little girl that is still struggling, but you can tell it won't be long and she'll get it soon.

Then come the two little boys (one being Kadin of course). Seeing these boys in the water is kind of like watching a cat getting a bath. There's lots of splashing and appendages flailing in all sorts of directions. These two boys have no clue what swimming actually is. They basically get in the water and move their arms and legs as fast as they can - which - to my surprise - does actually keep their heads above water for about 2 seconds - then down they go like rocks.

I got to thinking as I'm watching my son flounder in the water - if perhaps girls are just better swimmers than boys. I've seen it in the girls in this swim class, I've seen it in Bella, and I've seen it with Brian too - he's just not that great a swimmer. Perhaps Kadin is destined to be afraid of the water - like the cat who hates getting a bath - and he will just have to wear a life jacket to the pool when he's 10.

Oh, I'm not giving up . . . after our last swim class I wanted to - trust me - but I refuse to give up. I will continue to show up each week with my son in toe . . . and proudly take my seat on the bleachers to watch. I will cheer him on when he stands at the side of the pool negotiating with the instructor to not let his face touch the water. I will stand and cheer as he cries out in terror begging the instructor not to unstrap his floatie from his back because he's afraid he will sink to the bottom of the pool and no one will jump in to save him. I will proudly tell other parents - "That's my son" when I see the instructor struggling to unravel his arms from around her body because he won't let go for a second to even try and kick his legs are use his arms.

Yup - I won't give up . . . he may be 10 years old and still in the "Guppies" class, and I will still be sitting on those bleachers cheering him on.