Like Michael Phelps Without So Much Pot Smoking

We've had more than a little trouble convincing Kate that she must learn to swim. We've taken every angle we could conceive from "it is required" to all manner of things to make it seem more fun. Much like Edie Brickell, young Kate prefers the shallow water. This summer we signed her up for swimming lessons during the school day, with her classmates. She took them last year without much ado but we didn't see a lot of headway being made. Today was the 4th of an 8 week class. Today was the first class she attended.

True to form last night she began feigning illness the moment she was reminded the swimming lessons were coming up. This week, though, we really pulled out all the stops. Joy decided she would pick the girls up from daycare a little early on Friday, like she often does, to go do something fun. However, if Kate didn't go to swimming lessons and participate, Aunt Jo Jo would only pick up Sarah and leave Kate alone at daycare. (cue movie Dread music - dundunDUN!) Today after Jeremiah dropped the girls off at daycare, we all held our breath and crossed our fingers. This is one of those punishments on which no one really wants to follow through.

I entered the daycare center this afternoon with some trepidation. Sarah's class room is directly across from the front door and it's extremely difficult to avoid being seen by her as soon as I walk in, so I picked her up first. Besides, it's awfully cute the way she jumps up and down yelling "my mommy is here! My mommy is here!" until I get into the classroom. She always looks like she's going to faint.

We headed down the hallway discussing the events of Sarah's day. Then we walked into Kate's room. Before I was even all way the through the door a frenetic, chattering Kate careened across the room. "Mommy I went to swim class!!!" then she told me every single thing that happened in her class. I finally let out my breath and lifted her up and gave her a great big hug. She was so full of herself she was extra heavy. We grabbed her bag of swim gear "You hold it mommy, it smells like chlorine" and headed to the car. "I went swimming mommy and I didn't even lie about it and Aunt Jo Jo can be proud of me now! And I won't be sad tomorrow when she comes because she'll pick me up too!"

When we got in the car, I dialed Aunt Jo Jo and handed the phone to Kate. She breathlessly described her lesson again over the phone. Hearing Kate say "I went swimming! I put my head in the water!" Sarah exclaimed "you did? Did you kick your feet and use your hands?" Kate's little sister, you see, is already an accomplished swimmer. Not yet so accomplished at sarcasm, Sarah sounded genuinely excited for Kate.

As I listened to Kate describe her big day to Joy, a feeling of overwhelming pride swept over me and I thought for just a moment my heart might burst. Given how thrilled I was about her deed, I think it's a good thing so many recipients of Nobel prizes are in the winter of their lives, when their parents must already be free of this mortal coil, because I really don't know what the pride of an accomplishment so much greater than attending a single swim class might do to a person.

Princess Stinkyfeet reenacts her bravery at the pool's edge.