Okay. I admit it. I’m living vicariously through Number 4.

When I was 6 my parents signed me up for swim lessons through the parks and rec department in my town.

We didn’t have a pool at our house, there were no town pools or public pools in the area, and we didn’t belong to the Y or a country club, so up until that point, my swimming experience was limited to going up to my knees in the water at the beach.

I loved the water.

But I had no idea how to swim.

I went to the middle school pool for my first lesson.

The instructors lined all the kids up behind the ladder in the shallow end.

One of them asked,

“Is there anyone here who can’t swim at all?”

Chirp. Chirp. Chirp.

No one said anything.

I looked around.

Nobody raised their hand.

My heart started racing.

Being a super shy kid (yes, I was very shy as a child), and bordering on extremely insecure, I was not about to announce to all the other kids that I had no idea how to swim.

“Okay. I want you all to get in and swim a little bit, so we know which group to put you in,” said the head instructor.

So one by one, the kids got in the pool and demonstrated their varying levels of dog paddle and freestyle.

I watched each person ahead of me.

It looked easy enough.

I’d be able to do it.

When it was my turn, I jumped right in and…

…promptly sank directly to the bottom of the pool.

Yes, I almost drowned at my first swim lesson.

And I had to be rescued by a lifeguard.

That didn’t add to my insecurities at all.

Anyway, fast forward to this past weekend.

Actually before that, rewind a little to last summer.

When Number 3 and 4 asked to join the swim team.

Remember how that went for Number 4?

If not, read this.

And then read this.

Anyway, Number 4 has come a long way since the summer.

She loves the swim team.

LOVES IT.

And this past weekend was the 8 and under CT swim championships. It was a fairly big meet.

If you are 8.

Or 7.

Or 6.

You do a lot of waiting and sitting at swim meets.

The whole thing lasted about 4 1/2 hours.

I was sitting in the stands next to the mom of another girl on the team.

I really like her, and we spent most of the time talking.

You can cover a lot of topics in 4 1/2 hours.

At one point the conversation turned to moms who feel the need to let everyone know how awesome their kid is. There are a couple of those on our team.

On every team.

You know, the ones who let you know that their amazing kid is a much better swimmer or soccer player or baseball player or student than your kid.

And then if they happen to not perform well, or they don’t win, or set a record, then that mom makes every excuse in the book for her kid.

Anyway, I said to my new swim team mom friend,

Come on…these kids are eight.

Who really cares?

I don’t care if my kid is in first or last place.

As long as she is having fun…that’s all that matters.

I was pretty emphatic about it.

Well, if you like my facebook page, then you know that Number 4 won the 6 and under backstroke at the meet.

Not just her heat.

She won the whole fucking thing.

Uh huh.

My kid.

And all that stuff I said about not caring about your kid being the best?

You know, that the only thing I care about is that she’s having fun?

Yeah.

Screw that.

I take it back.

Having fun?

That’s still most important.

I guess.

But being able to say your kid kicked every other kid’s ass in the pool?

I hate to admit it…

But I’m really liking that.

A lot. 

See you in 2024 🙂

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