The YMCA

I have a long history with the YMCA. I worked at the Y in Bloomington all through college as a lifeguard/swim instructor/camp counselor, so the Y was directly responsible for financing my addiction to Pizza Express breadsticks. When we moved and I decided to be a stay-at-home mom to three-year-old Sam, I worked part-time at the YMCA in Louisville. (Yes, I realize this goes against the spirit of being a stay-at-home mom. And I'm OK with that. I'm a better stay-at-home mom when I'm working outside the home at least once in a while. Go figure.)

So, when we figured out that Paul LOVES the pool, the Y was my go-to choice for swim lessons.

Monday was Paul's first swim class.

I was a nervous wreck.

I suppose I put a bit too much emphasis on this swim class. This class was not about Paul learning to swim. (Heck, I can teach him how to swim.) Rather, this class became my benchmark to assess whether Paul could handle: 1) listening to a teacher; 2) following directions; and 3) engaging with other students. If he shut down and/or went into hyper-anxiety manic mode during swim class, I knew I'd have to seriously reassess our Kindergarten plan. And I didn't want to reassess our Kindergarten plan. Paul's educational future suddenly hinged on his success as a "guppy".

He did GREAT! Harvard, here we come! Or, at least, "flying fish". Whatever, it's all good.

The instructors called the kids to the edge of the pool, and with once brief glance back at me Paul joined the others, hanging onto the wall in water that was "Big, Mummie. Big water cover head." He watched the other kids for cues as to what he was supposed to do, then he dove right in (literally) and did it! I was impressed and amazed! For their last exercise, the kids were to throw a plastic ball into the pool and swim to it. Paul has a great arm, so he threw the ball nearly the length of the pool then jumped in after it. Fearless. I, on the other hand, had to brace myself not to jump in after him. I also tried to refrain myself from silently criticizing the way-too-young (was I ever that young?) instructor.

After swimming I took Paul to see the Kids' Adventure Center. Even though it was packed with kids, Paul played happily in the maze for forty minutes. In fact, I was starting to worry that the battle might occur when trying to get him to come HOME. I love the Y. I want to marry the Y and live there forever. 'Cuz - I can't resist - it's fun to play at the YMCA!