Today is the second day of swimming lessons, the first session of swimming lessons my kids have ever taken. They swim quite a bit–a few times per week in the summer, once every week or two in the winter–but they’ve never had any training other than what their father has taught them. Which he has taught them well because they can kick and float on their backs and that kind of stuff, but having someone else teach them seemed like a good idea, too.
Last week we were in the car and counting down the days to the first lesson. “Preschool! Then playday! Then preschool! Then swimming lessons!” The imminence of the lessons worried G and he looked out the car window and said “Well I’m just not sure I’m prepared for that.” Cutie! When did he learn the word “prepared”? But he was very serious and so we discussed the fact that he already likes the water and should not be worried. He relaxed a little, but on the way to the Y the first day he started voicing his concerns again. ”Um, Mommy? Are they going to make me swim across the deep water by myself?” I told him not until he’s ready. “Oh, so like next week probably?” Cutie.
They loved their lessons and G thought he was probably the best in his class. Not bad to have a little pride in his work.