Two swimming lessons and two trips to a Six Flags water park later and Ava is... improving. Given the proper circumstances, Michael could be a fish. Proper circumstances would be regular opportunities to play in water deeper than his bathtub or the kiddie pool on the deck. He loves it. He loves dunking his head under the water and trying to swim. At the moment his "swimming" mostly involves sinking to the bottom and being pulled back up by an adult. He surfaces sputtering, blowing water out of his nose, and deliriously happy. But he would get better with practice.
Ava is more cautious. What she hates most is being dunked against her will and she protests every activity that involves the involuntary dipping of her head into the water. But... and it's a big but, she's more angry than terrified about it at this point. She cries, but not for long. In the activities where the children are encouraged to put their mouths, ears, or even entire faces in under their own control she's beginning to voluntarily participate. Then she'll look back over her shoulder to make sure I'm paying appropriate attention to her bravery and competence.
Gosh how I love them both. I'm so enjoying them learn to love the water. I always did as a child. I wish I had more opportunity as an adult.
So, decent progress on the swimming lesson front. Now did I ever tell you guys about the gymnastics session where Michael fell off the beam, cut his lip with his teeth, and I had to call the pediatrician to ask if he needed stitches? Fun times.
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