Testing the Waters

I learned to swim when I was pretty young (less than 2 years old) so I have no memory of ever being afraid of the water. Swimming was always the preferred summer pastime of my youth, and my sister and I would spend hours and hours playing in the pool: perfecting our swan dives and backdives and cannonballs and front handsprings (in retrospect, the front handsprings were probably not the brightest idea), synchronized swimming and water ballets and races and diving for pennies that would always inevitably end up beyond reach in the deepest end of the pool. My sister achieved legendary status at the swim club when she happily jumped off the diving board (into my mom's waiting arms) at the ripe old age of 21 months, bulging soggy diaper and all. And my brother....lord knows that child made so many falls into our backyard pool that he practically taught himself to swim by default. 

So when I signed Caroline up for swim lessons late this past spring I envisioned another champion water-lover continuing in the Herrod tradition. I knew she loved bathtime from the day she was born, and that she always enjoyed splashing around in the shallow steps of bill's sister's pool. All indications that she would take to swimming like a duck in water.

Alas, it was not to be. Instead I've created the shrieking water-hating banshee. She now associates all pools=swim lessons, so she goes bananas and cries and clings to me. She wants NOTHING to do with the pool.

At least I can take comfort knowing that I have achieved my goals of making sure she won't drown. Swim lessons were effective in that a) she now hates the pool so much that she cries as soon as she SEES one, so I'm quite sure she will never voluntarily approach one on her own free will and b) she has mastered the survival float. We did swim lessons for 10 minutes a day, 5 days a week, for 3 and a half weeks and she cried during every.single.lesson. I was hoping that as she mastered her skills she would grow more confident and not cry, but that never happened.  Instead, she started figuring out where we headed each day and began crying sooner and sooner. At first she didn't start crying till we pulled up to the house. Then it began as soon as we entered the neighborhood. Then it was as soon as we got on the interstate. Now she cries as soon as I pull out her swimsuit. Luckily though she's still fine playing at the splash pad, so I am crossing my fingers that the pool at our beach condo has a toddler-friendly splash area.

So here she is demonstrating her new survival float skills. She has only 2 more lessons next week, where she'll practice falling from the side of the pool, in fully-clothed conditions, so it would closely mimic a real-life situation. She passed with flying colors. She can save herself if she ever falls into the water. But given the fact that she now abhors the water, I don't think we really have to worry about her approaching any water bodies. (NOTE: She leaned over and took a big bite out of my shoulder right before I handed her over to her swim teacher. She was NOT HAPPY about going swimming and she decided to share her emotions with her teeth.) (Also note: on all these videos press the small grey rectangle button next to the words "you tube" on the bottom right of the screen to make the video pop up larger.)

She's also been testing the waters in a more figurative sense as well. I wouldn't say that we've reached the full-blown terrible two's (which can begin way sooner than their second birthday), but she is definitely pushing the boundaries and seeing what she can get away with. She absolutely knows what activities are off-limits, but she tries to get away with them anyway. She smiles and says 'no no no' as she plunges her hands into Winnie's water bowl and splashes to kingdom come. She looks back and watches me as she approaches the tv and starts pushing buttons. She loves to drop food from her high chair in slow-motion fashion, stretching arms out, hands loaded with food, watching me for my reaction. Then SPLAT. (Sometimes this sequence is altered when she notices Winnie standing near her chair, in which case she will first offer him a bite. Mr. picky-eater-pug has become a big fan of whatever she's handing out, rom grilled cheese to green beans.) If she's standing in her little chair and I tell her to sit down, she complies, then stands right back up again. 

But it's hard to stay angry for long when she turns on the charm two seconds later. She thinks laughter is contagious, so anytime anyone laughs she laughs too. (One of her favorite exhibits at the Children's museum is a little window with shutters; when you open the shutters a recording of a baby laughing plays. She thinks it's HILARIOUS and laughs right along with it. She'll stand there for a good 3 minutes opening and closing the shutters, laughing away.) She loves to dance and will happily practice her moves at a moment's notice, whether listening to a good jam at the grocery store or rocking out in her carseat.

She also loves to be a good 'helper' and will usually obey simple commands: "go get your shoes from the closet and bring them to me" "go put your pajamas in the laundry basket" "pick up your blocks and put them in the box". One cute little trick she developed on her own is handing me my towel when I turn off the water in the shower. She stops whatever she's doing, toddles over to the tub, and picks up my towel and hands it to me.

Dr. Jekyl, meet Mr. Hyde. How can the same sweet baby who hands me my towel each day also be the same shrieking demon who took a chomp out of my shoulder?? Ah the joys of toddlerhood. I guess she and I are both learning how to navigate this unchartered territory. I'm being tested in my patience levels, and she's being tested in everything else, from verbal skills to swimming skills to dancing skills. I supposed one day we'll look back and marvel how quickly we sailed from one phase to another!