Swimming (continued) or How to Make My Shit List

We returned to swim lessons on Tuesday.  I thought we should give it one more try.  I should have known better.

For the last week, while we were sitting together over breakfast or as I was pulling his shirt over his head, Will would ask, "Are we going swimming today?"  I would say no and tell him just how many days there were until the next class.  Then I would praise him and try to build his confidence.  

On Tuesday morning, Will knew we were headed back to class.  

At breakfast, Will complained that he was too tired.  As I helped him get dressed, he whined that he didn't want to go.  As I buckled him into the car, his eyes were filled with tears.  As we turned into the parking lot, he was sobbing.  The more upset he became, the more horrible I felt.  But at the same time, I felt that not going could send some message about quitting or facing up to fears.  So we went.

It was pouring out.  I fumbled with a stroller, an infant, a diaper bag, and an inconsolable 3-year-old.  He kept saying that he didn't want to go and as we entered the pool area he was crying.  I kept telling him that everything would be okay... he would be fine.  I think I was trying to convince the both of us.

I spoke to the teacher before class, explaining that Will had always loved the water and been a strong swimmer for his age/ability group.  I explained that his confidence had been shaken and that he could use some encouragement and extra attention this week.  I suggested that we speak at the end of the class, and if Will continued to struggle, we could switch him to a more appropriate class.  She looked at Will, who had regained his composure-- but still appeared visibly upset, and asked me, "So, he's swimming today?"  When I told her that he would swim, she took his hand and lead him to the pool-- without so much as a word or smile to him.

In the pool, he looked scared and shaken.  He was trying to keep up, but he was just too upset.  I watched as the instructor strapped a bubble to him.  He looked at me and began sobbing.  A few minutes later, she sat him on the edge of the pool to calm down.  At this point, I was motioning to him to come to me, but he was still.  I think he was afraid to move.  He rejoined the class and she would intermittently sit him off to the side when he wasn't keeping up.  At the end of the class, the students moved to a more shallow part of the pool where they dove for rings-- this is always Will's favorite part of class.  He eagerly dove below the water to retrieve a ring and he carried it to her.  She slid it up her arm, adding it to her collection without saying a word or even nodding.  I watched as this happened three more times-- Will eagerly finding a ring and seeking out her approval-- she ignoring him.  

She seriously made my shit list.  Big time.  For life.

It figures that she didn't say a word to us at the end of class.

I ended up switching Will to a different time, day and teacher.  I also lowered him back to his previous level, just to build his confidence.  I told him that we were switching to a class that's more fun and he asked me if he was moving 'backwards'.  Then, my once confident, bubble-free, little swimmer told me that he couldn't go into the water... without his bubble.

This was a mistake.  Big one.  I am an ass.  Big one.