The moral of this recent post from Lenore Skenazy on Free Range Kids (one of my all-time favorite blogs EVER) came to light in our lives this morning, really in the most pleasant of ways. Daddy and Mr T have had a long-standing Sunday morning swimming date that's been a tradition for nearly 5 years now. It started so that the boys could have some fun bonding together and I could have a little peace and quiet. Today, though, Kitty Kat and I joined in. As we learned on our trip to France earlier this month, the little feline has developed a love for 'swinning!' in the 'swinning poo!'
The difference between brother and sister at comparable ages couldn't have been more evident.
From before his first birthday, I started taking Mr T to the parent-and-baby/toddler 'lessons' at the local pool (the same one he and Daddy now go to most weekends). I did it for two reasons: 1.) to get out of the house and use up a couple hours, and 2.) we wanted Mr T comfortable enough with the water to be able to keep himself safe. We don't care if he becomes an Olympic swimmer, we don't care if he is the last of his class to be able to swim. But we've agreed from Day One that our children will learn how to swim good enough to keep themselves safe. And all the advice says starting early is the best way, I met some other ex-pat moms at the lessons, the teachers at this pool are highly regarded, blah blah blah. What could go wrong, right?
With Mr T, EVERYTHING. Although he loved being in the water in the shallow end and couldn't get enough of splashing and jumping around, he completely freaked out when we'd go in water where he couldn't touch the bottom, even when I was holding him. We're talking, screaming the place down for the half of the lesson that was in the deeper end, non-stop protesting during half the activities, virtually refusing to do the other half. And this didn't happen the first 2 or 3 times I took him....it happened every. Single. Damn. Time. Dozens upon dozens of times over the course of two years.
So you're probably thinking 'Ok then, you colossally evil woman, why the £$%& did you take him?!' Because, like I said, we believe it's a life-saving skill and is simply not an option in this house. Our children will be able to swim to a degree that keeps them safe.
The thing is, when he'd be in the shallow end with me, or on Sunday mornings with Daddy, he LOVED it. Couldn't get enough of it. Never wanted to leave. And was actually pretty darn good at keeping control of his body. But that was the issue....control. He was
When he started his official swimming lessons for his national diplomas a few years later, Holy Breaststroke, you wouldn't believe the difference in him! A complete fish, took to lessons like the proverbial duck to water (no pun intended), and got all three diplomas faster than any child anyone had ever heard of. This kid LOVES water, loves swimming, and is unrecognizable as the screaming child of 5 years ago.
Fast forward to today with Baby Sister, who I have NOT taken to these lessons. Sounds hypocritical, doesn't it? 'Our children will swim' but then I haven't done a damn thing about it. But guess what? She's as much a fish as her brother and came to this all on her own, no interference from Mom and Dad needed, thank you very much.
The pool requires that any child who has not yet received their first national diplomas to wear water wings on their arms. We were worried Little Miss Independently-Minded would throw a hissy fit about it, but we lucked out. Not only did she not object, she refused the inflatable ring that we used in France, and yelled 'No Mommy hands!' when I tried to hold her.
I kid you not. She swam around completely on her own, legs pedaling away both in the upright position and lying flat on her back, totally carefree and loving life while in water that came up to my throat. She flung herself down the plastic slide that had a nearly two-foot drop to the water. She jumped off the edge into our arms (after climbing out the ladder herself, of course) over and over and over and over and over.....It was never enough. All the while she screamed 'Kitty Kat swinning!' We were astonished not only at the level of comfort she found with it all, but with the level of control she had over her own body in a situation she's not accustomed to.
Ok, so I know a lot of this could be down to pure coincidence and luck-of-the-draw, and maybe she'll end up the opposite of her brother and hating the water at the age of 7 (although somehow, I doubt it). But it was proof to us that even though we were never pushy parents about the swimming with Mr T, kids really do come into their own things in their own time, frequently without any help from us. Actually, I think a lot of times they do it better without our 'help'.
I think we'll skip the toddler lessons for her and just have fun on the weekends. Support her love of the situation, play around with her doing difference things in the pool (which will all end up having some sort of connection to swimming anyway), and let her abilities develop later. Hey, we did the same for Mr T and his love of reading, and between Harry Potter and Choose Your Own Adventure books, he's read damn near 2,000 pages on his own.....in a language nobody ever taught him.
So I'd like to challenge all you moms out there (myself included) to choose one thing you'd like to teach your child and back off from doing so. Just support them in that area, however that works best for them, and stand back to watch them develop on their own. In the meantime, I'm off to do some laundry so that our suits and towels will be clean for the Swinning Poo next weekend.
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