Since we are at the pool anyway, I decided to sign Molly up for swim lessons. And I must say she really improved her skills. The swim vest is now a thing of the past. Molly can hold her own in the water. She can swim! Really. Seriously. She swims. Who’d a thunk it?
Here’s some pics of the little guppy in action at her swim lessons.
And here she is going under the water (See that wavy blackish blob in the foreground? That's Molly!)
Molly swimming....And coming up from the bottom of the pool with a toy.
She even does the backstroke by herself:
Scaling the wall:
We practiced swim lessons at home using our sunken living room as the pool and a variety of dolls as swim instructors. We practiced swim lessons during our free time at the pool. We came up with coping strategies. We implemented said strategies at the lessons.
But our problems were not over. Come to find out, Molly also has issues with being cold. Yep, she’s my kid alright. Right after we adjusted to the teachers we had several cold nights. That left morning temperatures low and the water cold. Great.
Now let me say that all of the kids were cold—goose bumps, shivering, teeth chattering cold. But they somehow had the ability to deal with it. Molly didn’t. So we had more tears. More whining. More wanting to get out.
It got to the point where I started to dread 10:05 a.m. Swim lessons became just as much work for me as they were for Molly. I had the screamer. Joy.
Finally on the last day, the issues faded, the weather warmed and we has a tear-free lesson. Great. Tear-free on the last day. Just my luck.
Molly was one of the few kids in the class that actually passed the lessons. She got this nifty little certificate to prove it!
And here is her report card. Look at her grades; feel the warm, proud glow that I felt when my kid was one of the few that passed….Then read the comments. I really like the part about waiting a year before putting her in the next level. Hmmmm, could this be code for “We don’t want to listen to your kid scream for another two weeks?” I’m thinkin’ it is. Heh! I don’t blame the instructors. I feel the same way. So we will wait until next year to transform Molly into the next Michael Phelps.