School has been out for a whole week now, one very looong week. The adjustment is not going well — for me at least. Sam is fine, but I miss the time zooming around doing errands by myself, buying things, and then returning the things I bought the previous week. There is something so cathartic about that silly ritual, the shopping and the “reverse shopping” as my fellow shopaholic friend Denise aptly calls it. (Don’t ask me why it soothes my soul, ask Freud.) Plus the loss of structure at the end of anything — a job, school, etc., always makes me feel pretty lost at first. In the legendary words of Diana Ross, though, I will survive, at least until camp starts next week!
Sam has been doing Morgan Swim School (also known as the “Nazi Swim School” to Richmonders far and wide) for the past two weeks, the infamous Eight Day Blitz. And what a blitz it has been! Last Monday when he started he didn’t even want to put his face in the water, and I am not exaggerating. Now he is jumping in VOLUNTARILY off the side of the pool, floating COMFORTABLY on his back, and kicking along in the water, face down. Is that really my kid or has a swimming space alien occupied his 37-pound body? If that isn’t progress, I don’t know what is! Hmmn,,, I wonder if they have a diet school in the works…
There definitely have been some tears involved in the process, lots of tears actually. To his credit Sam’s teacher, known to us as “Mr. John,” has been super patient, persevering even when I can hear Sam yelling at the top of his lungs, “NO!” And that is with me in the car way on the other side of the huge house with the door shut and just one window rolled down. Oy. He’s got one set of healthy lungs there for sure.
In contrast to the tears and fears, Sam truly believes that he is a real-life on-duty Rescue Hero. (He is, isn’t he?) Not sure when he has a day off. Perhaps the world is not ready for that lack of security yet. So the other day as we headed down to the pool with Sam’s lower lip a-quivering, he informed me, “If anyone needs any help, you’re in charge. I’m going to be at my swimming lesson.” Thank God I did not have to step in and perform any kind of search-and-rescue, however small. And God forbid I have to interrupt his half-hour swimming lesson due to my own super hero ineptitude.
Today he actually “graduated” from Morgan Swim School with a ribbon, certificate, and swimming book. For the final day, the kids routinely do a swim test consisting of them jumping into the water with ALL of their clothes on, right down to pants, shirt, and shoes. I thought the wet clothes part would consist of just jumping in and then finding his way to the side of the pool, but nooooo. Mr. John had him do pretty much all of his drills in his soaking wet clothes. And he did them, a-OK! I was truly shocked. Heck, I hate swimming with the weight and discomfort of wet clothes on, but with Sam’s low body weight it is probably much harder for him.
I don’t know who impressed me more — Sam or Mr. John and his magical ability to get Sam to do all of these challenging drills willingly. I used to be dubious about the whole Nazi Swim School thing, but I’m a full believer now. As a reward for doing so well, I took Sam to get his very own set of multi-colored diving rings, so we can practice together — until his next set of lessons. When we got home, I took a look at his certificate which said, “Character Demonstrated – Bravery.” Atta boy! Maybe he is a Rescue Hero after all or at least on the road to becoming one someday. Looks like I could learn a thing or two from him… So who is raising who here? Are Daddy Mac and I raising him or is he raising us? I guess it is a whole lot of both. Hope we are doing half as good as job as he is.
LibbY
PS This blog is also posted on www.RichmondChic.com
I heard great things about the Morgan Swim School, but I didn’t get our Morgan in before we left. She is a firm believer in not getting her face wet, which presents quite q conundrum for her when she claims to be a mermaid. Maybe Sam can show her some pointers.