Pool Drama

A few weeks ago Robby went to a birthday party at a local swimming pool. While he was having a great time splashing around with his friends, I busied myself by reading the assorted pamphlets that were strewn on the tables in the lobby. After reading a flier advertising swimming lessons, I decided to propel myself into the strata of "World's Best Mom" by signing him up. After all, he loves the water and is always giddy with anticipation when he knows that he will be going to a pool.

I was excited to reveal the big swim surprise because I just knew that he was going to be over-the-moon. I sat him down, showed him the brochure and told him that he was going to be taking swim lessons. I watched as the smile melted from his face, revealing a scowl. He handed me the brochure, got up and said, "There is no way I'm going to be take swim lessons." So much for my World's Best Mom nomination.

Scott and I agreed that swim lessons were not optional. We are going to be putting in a larger above ground pool this year and Robby needs to demonstrate some swim competency. We both stood firm and insisted that he take the classes.

Yesterday was Robby's first lesson. He began to complain during lunch. By afternoon he was trying to get out of the class by telling me that the "frog that he caught a few days ago might have made a baby in his throat." He had resorted to sobbing by dinner time.

He cried when we insisted that he put on his new swimsuit. He then informed me that he "was never ever going to wear this stupid blue swimsuit again. It will remind me of the stupid stupid swim school and it will always make me sad." He then continued to lament his impending swim lesson doom.

The car ride to the pool both frustrated me and made me sad. He continued to cry and frantically plead his case. "I really don't want to do this" was followed by "I'm not prepared." He then complained about my signing him up for the lessons while he was at a party and declared, "The next time I go to a birthday party do no sign me up for anything." I did have to giggle when he told me that he couldn't get in the water because his "hormones were all out of whack."

All day I tried to talk with him to allay his fears about the lessons. He simply insisted that he didn't want to go, and my logic was not working. Finally, he mentioned that he didn't want to "sink like a stone" in the pool. I promised him that he would not and agreed to stay poolside throughout the lesson. He was not happy about it, but he finally walked into the building.

Robby was nervous walking towards the pool. His teacher handed him a yellow plastic duck and asked him to get into the water. He dropped my hand and hopped in. He spent the next 45 minutes smiling, laughing and blowing bubbles in the pool.

As promised, I stayed poolside. While all of the other parents were relaxing in the air conditioned lounge, I was sweating in the humid air, pungent with chlorine. I've decided that next time Scott can take him for lessons! In the meantime I'm seriously considering signing my little guy for drama classes. I think he has a knack for it.