That's My Daughter (In The Water)

It occurred to me, as Zoe shrieked in terror and clawed at my face in a desperate attempt to save herself from a watery death, that perhaps she was not enjoying the swimming lesson. The moms sitting poolside were giving me that look, the one usually reserved for people who fart in church or who get caught pulling the ears off of live rabbits. I gave them my best "fuck you" smile. 

Sports and Physical Activity have been on the agenda as of late. When your 19-month daughter can point at the remote and squeal "TEEVEE! TEEVEE!", that's a harbinger of childhood doom: juvenile obesity, Wii addiction, and the eventual onset of Adult Bravo Reality TV Fandom. So we made the push: the kids WILL get outside and play more, and they WILL like it. And both have responded: Lucas, much to my delight, has shown some honest-to-God skill with the rugby ball. He can kick, is learning to throw a decent pass, and has a real desire to stomp people on the head. (My calls to the Cal Rugby scouts have not been returned.) Last night I picked up a kid's lacrosse set; he'd been on me for weeks to learn how to play "the cross". Since I have no idea how to use a lacrosse stick, I'm thinking of hiring a tutor. (I hear Steve Stifler's available.) Zoe, meanwhile, enjoys toddling around the yard and has a little football of her own; she likes rolling it to the dog, who responds by licking himself. 

The swimming lessons came into play when she showed a real love of the ocean; this was on our recent trip to Florida, with its warm sun and warmer water. I took her out into the waves and she dug it, splashing, squealing (in delight, not horror), coming up laughing after going under, giving me hope that she'd be the next Lisa Andersen. Beth signed us up for the Mommy (AHEM, YMCA, it's 2009) and Me Swim Class. We had high hopes that she would immediately start swimming around like one imagines that baby on the Nirvana album cover doing. Chase that dollar on the hook, Zo'!

That wasn't gonna happen. The lesson is 30 minutes long; on Monday, she wailed and clung for 19 minutes, 25 seconds (yes, I timed it, just to prove to myself that her panic attack did not in fact last for an Eternity). Today, she wailed and clung for 18 minutes, 15 seconds. Granted, the pool was pretty chilly - the instructor informed us that due to a "software issue" the pool's heating unit did not come on until about two minutes before the lesson began, and while I'm no Luddite it occurred to me that sometimes the best solution to an engineering problem lies not with automated systems but with a guy flicking a switch. 

Not wanting to be a heartless bastard, about ten minutes (9 minutes, 8 seconds, to be exact) I thought about taking her out of the pool and calling it a day. One of the Big Questions parents face is when to let their kid quit on something, and when to make 'em keep at it despite their objections. There's always that fear of becoming one of Those Parents, eventually causing your kid to have a nervous breakdown while in detention, the repressed grief over the damage he inflicted upon Larry Lester's butt cheeks finally becoming too much to bear. For a time, Lucas wasn't into karate - he'd whine when it was time to go to a lesson, or complain afterwards that he thought it was boring, or hard. But we kept pushing him, telling him that we weren't going to let him quit. And that was the right decision, for him and for us; he's gotten a second wind, and is testing for his Orange Belt in a few days (and I suppose that once he gets his Black Belt and can kick my ass, I'll find out if he resented us for making him stick with it, possibly in the form of a Flying Spin Kick to the side of my head). Still, it's different when the child is a baby. It's different when that baby is clinging to you, shivering and crying, and you don't know whether the cause is the water temp or fear. 

Zoe and I stuck with it. And it should be noted that for 10 minutes, 35 seconds and 11 minutes, 45 seconds, she did not cry. In fact, the squeals were of the Delighted variety. Two small check marks, added to the Win column.