But Not Underneath

Jarrah is taking swimming lessons right now at the YMCA. It's a two-week immersion program (hee hee) with parent participation. The Rupperts are in our class, too, by design, and a handy design it is, since they have been very helpful both in the water and out.

So far we've had a different teacher each time, and the second one, Miss Kaitlin, was better. Miss Nicki was perfectly sweet, but Miss Kaitlin was a bit more hands-on with the suggestions. And by the second lesson we were needing more suggestions because, well, Jarrah is not a natural fish.

The skills we've been learning include arm stroking, kicking, back-floating, ducking under and climbing out of the pool. I'm not being sarcastic about the last one--turns out that a big part of child water safety involves being able to get oneself out of the water once one has gone in. Most of these skills are accompanied by little songs, and sometimes the kids get a ball to throw and then swim towards it. Jarrah doesn't like to throw her ball, and when she does, she prefers that I convey her to the ball through my own efforts rather than hers.

And that's about where we are skill-wise, Dear Readers. Jarrah is very fond of the water, and I am fond of being in it with her, as she snuggles in my arms and hugs me for a half-hour that she otherwise wouldn't, since she's not a hugger. She hasn't cried or seemed scared, but she has some definite ideas about what she will and will not do in a pool. For starters, she doesn't want her face wet. She does not want to blow bubbles. She doesn't want to kick. She doesn't want to lay on her back. When gently coerced into prone positions where she begins to feel unsafe, her voice gets high and shrill and she repeats "No, thank you! No, thank you!" until I bring her back to hugging position. Strangely, though, she seems completely relaxed, smiling and laughing, until prodded out of her comfort zone. I guess that sounds like most of us.

There's a song that accompanies the dunking exercise that concludes the lesson, and it goes "Tick-tock! Tick-tock! I'm a little cuckoo clock! Tick-tock! Tick-tock! Now I'm ticking one o'clock!" Apparently, kids can be persuaded to dunk better if they get used to having their ears wet, so the teachers have encouraged us to wag the children from side to side during the "tick-tock" part, toss them in the air at "o'clock," and finish with a mutual dunking. We don't get that far, though, because Jarrah starts yelling, "No tick-tock! No tick-tock!" and clings to my torso like a barnacle. And you know what, Readers? I find that I don't much want to dunk, either. I've done it a few times, to be a sport, but it seems awfully wet and chemical-y. How was I ever on the swim team? Because, we've been told, going underneath is part of swimming. Who knew?

In any case, Jarrah is not in a rush to master basic water safety. I'm trying to be okay with that. I hear that being okay with things is a big part of parenting. Wish me luck.