Because I like to make my life harder than it needs to be, this morning we trotted off to MOFO School Holidays Swim School for a week of intense lessons. I know. It’s just as bad as you think it would be.
Daisy hasn’t had a great swimming career. We have done lessons on and off where she hasn’t learnt a think except that she doesn’t like to go and swim in groups of other smaller kids who can swim. Get her on her own, in a swimming pool and she will swim like a fish (with a bubble on her back) and even by the end of summer last year she would take a few paddles without one. Late last summer we had one morning at a friends place where she was happily swimming until a kid in the pool panicked, held onto Daisy, with her head under the water so he could keep his head above it. Needless to say after someone else’s Mum jumped in the pool fully dressed to rescue her, she has been a little scared of the water, and especially about “going under”. Combined with a lazy mother who would rather stab her eyes out than sit through swimming lessons watching her usually confident kid struggle, and panic and freak the fuck out, swimming lessons haven’t been top of my list of things to do. Funny that.
But, I also realised that she is almost 5, about to start School, and can’t really swim, so we enrolled. And off we went. And it was everything I hoped it wouldn’t be. It was bad. BAD. I hated. She hated it. I hated the teacher who forced her to do stuff even when she didn’t want to getting cross with her and embarrassing her. I hated that Daisy hated it and was scared and wouldn’t even push herself. I hated myself for hating that fact. I felt like an arsehole. I felt like a weak parent who let her kid get out of the pool when she should have stayed in there. I hated the other Mum’s with their little kids who could swim. And most of all I hate that I have to do this for the rest of the fucking week. I hate that I know that persistence is the key. I hate that we have to stick with it.
So. That’s Day one of the holidays. I have a week of this, every day, because I know we have to. Even though it’s the last thing any of us want to do. Sometimes being the Mum just sucks – doing things because it’s the best thing for them, even though it breaks your heart into a million pieces. Staying positive and feeling like you are lying to them, convincing them that something really isn’t fun when you know it isn’t. All because you know in the end it will be worth it. Mother Fucker Mothering.