This morning, I sat in the exact spot I’d occupied a year ago and watched Simon absolutely nail the swimming test that gave him a full-access pass at the pool. A year ago, he was in a lifejacket, confined to the shallow end. Today, he effortlessly jumped from the starting block, swam the full length without touching bottom, and floated on his back for 60 seconds.
He made it look easy— so easy one could almost forget that it was only 365 days ago that the same little boy carefully slid on his bottom from the side of the pool into the water, careful not to get his face wet.
Last summer, when I infamously embraced the ease of what seemed like my family’s next stage, I challenged myself to take advantage of our year-round swimming access. I made regular play dates with a friend whose daughter is a special favorite of all five of my crew, and allowed myself the luxury of a “mom date” during that time as well. I found that I began to look forward to pool times. My husband and I invested in lessons for the kids who needed more instruction. I swam from time to time, but when I didn’t, I brought along knitting projects, or other creative distractions.
And a year later… the pool is a regular part of our rhythm.
Phineas and John Mark are strong swimmers. Birdie and Simon are completely capable and at ease in all depths. Even Jude has ditched any kind of floatation device and regularly leaps from the starting blocks into the 9 ft. zone, although his strokes aren’t yet strong enough on his laps for me to recommend him for the swim test that will give him full reign without me in the water as well.
That freedom I wrote about last July? It’s here.
And yet…
From my lap, Alice observes her siblings splashing and bobbing and laughs at their antics. A year ago, she wasn’t yet a glimmer, although she was already there, growing and biding her time to reveal her presence. She hasn’t hit the water, not yet. I bought her a suit I have yet to use; having had sensory-challenged little ones before, I recognize that this could be an exercise in terror and I’m not quite ready to expose myself to that— let alone the whole pool. Instead, we spend our pool time following the shade, watching the world go by, labeling everything as it goes on or passes.
As this summer comes to a close, I think ahead to the one we’ll enjoy after another trip ‘round the sun. No doubt, Jude will try for his green band. John Mark and Phin will be strong enough to handily beat their current lap counts. And Alice, well, she’ll maybe be ready for more than just bobbing in mom’s arms. Who knows? Not me. And frankly, I’m not even going to try to make a call on it.
