Summer ≠ Swimming Lessons

I just discovered a gorgeous website. Kids With a Little Extra is dedicated to Conny Wenk’s stunning photographs of kids and young people with Down syndrome. Seriously, go oggle at these beautiful children. You’ll want one of your own!

 

This photo, in particular, was a balm to my poor, wounded mother’s heart.

It’s swimming season again. *heavy sigh* I hate summer. I just hate it.

First, a little history. Girly Girl has been taking swimming lessons since 2004, mostly Red Cross lessons at the city pool. In August 2006, she was doing very well, and the following June nearly passed Level I. Then she had a disastrous experience. By the end of second session 2007, she’d lost all of her water skills except the ability to bob.

We enrolled her in one-on-one lessons at a private gym. She loved that, and quickly got over her fear, but she made absolutely no progress in three sessions. Her teachers adored her, but the moment she resisted, they stopped pushing her. So she very happily bobbed and did alternating arm swings as she walked in the kiddy pool. She learned nothing.

Last year, we went back to the city pool, and we did five sessions there. She’s now done twenty sessions total — 20 sessions! – and she’s in Level I. 

But I’m still determined she learn at least enough to swim to the side of the pool if she falls in, so I dutifully enrolled her again this year. As I sat on the bench with the other moms, I couldn’t help but notice the difference between their attitude and mine. They were confidently talking about how they were going to do two sessions this year, and thought their child might jump two levels. One for sure. I just prayed my child wouldn’t be “a screamer” this year and that I wouldn’t cry through every lesson.

The first session went really well, and she completed six of the eleven skills required to pass. She even did face floats and jellyfish floats without  resistance.

But now we’re into the second session. Once again, she’s in a class with eight students, and once again, the assistant is brand new. Even worse, it’s a boy we went to church with who is only a couple of years older than she is, and they were peers at church. I held my breath the first day, but it didn’t go too badly (though the boy was very quick to let her refuse to do certain tasks). Mars went the second day in my place because I was at home, whimpering in the dark with a migraine. 

Yesterday was the third day. I watched, twice, as the assistant approached Girly Girl and said, “Do you want to do this?” When she said, “No,” he went on to the next child.

When she agreed, he took her out, but he praised the barest approximation of the skill instead of actually making her do it. For instance, on the back float (the one she does really well because she doesn’t have to put her face underwater), he made a big fuss out of the fact that she lay back on the water even though her head wasn’t back all the way, her belly wasn’t pushed up, and her knees were wrapped around his arm instead of lying flat. Last week, she was doing the back float perfectly — even when they let go for a second or two. 

Big Uh-OH!! He’s teaching her that she doesn’t have to stretch herself. My daughter may be mentally handicapped, but she is very quick to pick up a teacher’s low expectations.

Even worse, as the lesson progressed, she began doing the chant, “No! No! I don’t wanna!” She hasn’t actually screamed, “Mommy! Help!” yet, but that’s certainly the direction we’re going.

I don’t think I can go through this again. I’ve done five summers in a row where I spent an hour of every day holding my breath and trying not to cry in public. That is 250 hours!! Two hundred and fifty hours that I could have been relaxing and enjoying summer. Or gardening. Or reading. Or … hey, here’s an idea! … editing my novel. I get no joy from the sunshine or the warm temperatures, not even from the incredible fresh fruit, because the specter of swimming lessons looms over everything.

I should probably at least try one-on-one lessons at the public pool, but I’m a bit disheartened. I don’t understand how she can be doing so well on Friday, and by the following Wednesday, she’s slid back to a total beginner, terrified to even leave the side of the pool with a teacher.

We’ve bought the kids a pool (three and a half feet deep). I think I’m going to spend a lot of time looking at Janina’s lovely, happy face and see if we can help Girly Girl unlearn what twenty sessions of swim lessons have taught her. See if she can learn that swimming can be fun.

Edited to Add: Be sure to read the Swimming Update.

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