I am one of Those Crazy Parents

I will not be one of those crazy parents.

I will not be one of those crazy parents.

I will not be one of those crazy parents.

I will not be one of those crazy parents.

Well, we're back from swimming lesson number one. And I have to write lines. Seems no matter what school I go to, or visit, or watch . . .

Okay, the lines are self-imposed. I really have to step back, chill out. I'm learning and I will get better.

Upon arrival (15 minutes early) I took the boys and had a seat with the other moms in the viewing area. Everyone was nice, asked the boys' names and so on.

"You have your hands full this morning," said one. "Every morning," I replied. The moms quickly learned the boys' names and, minutes later, even remembered them. I did not remember any names. Note to self: remember names tomorrow.

Anyway, at the appropriate time, I took Sonwun and Sontoo to the change room, got Sonwun changed and led him to the pool. There, we met Sarah, his teacher. She seemed nice and quickly took control. I didn't have time to ask her about her teaching ability, her rescue training, her medical background, of if there's any history of mental illness in her family. I fought the urge to remain poolside to monitor Sonwun's every move, and instead, beat a hasty retreat back to the viewing area.

"You did the right thing," said one of the moms upon my return.

Perhaps.

I watched as my eldest son, at 3.5 years, made his way around the pool with Sarah. The only other student was a boy about Sonwun's age, but maybe a little bigger. The other boy held the teacher's hand all the way around while my boy skipped ahead, touched everything and made my heart jump half a dozen times as he skipped too close to the edge of the deep end. Be cool, be cool.

And then it was into the water, which was up to his armpits as he tip-toed around the pool. I was happy to see he was eager to get in, eager to get involved under the ever-watchful eye of . . . he slipped . . . his head's under water . . .

I just about went through the plate glass viewing window in the 0.5 seconds it took for Sonwun to regain his footing. But during that fraction of a second, I had visions of him taking in a huge amount of water, choking, never wanting to go near water again and passing on his fear of water to his children. The other mothers kind of chuckled, rolled their eyes. It's nice to be the new guy.

I will not be one of those crazy parents.

I will not be one of those crazy parents.

I will not be one of those crazy parents.

I will not be one of those crazy parents.

It took a few minutes, but I managed to adjust myself to the devil-may-care attitude of Sarah's teaching style. I mean, she let him get more than an arm's length from her. She took her eyes off him for more than two seconds. Okay, you're the boss. I'll try to be cool with your Bohemian way of teaching children to swim.

In spite of it all, things went very well. Sonwun had a blast and went about each task with huge smile on his face. Yeah, he had to be warned about splashing the other boy once or twice, but he'll learn. And he can't wait to get back to the pool tomorrow.

All in all, a good time, a good experience. And now I have something to keep us all occupied, every day, for about an hour, for two weeks. I may just survive.