The boy can swim!

I believed so hard it made me angry yesterday when he wailed like a little girl and said he didn’t think he could do it.

“Yes you can!” I snapped, irritated with his lack of confidence. After all, his mother had been a competitive swimmer from the age of…whatever age they let you start competing…and there was no way I was going to raise a kid who couldn’t swim. Pa-leeze *rolls eyes*

I ignored his tears and cries that it was cold, held him out in the middle of the pool, pointed toward the wall, told him to kick his feet and move his arms. As I felt him start to push himself, I would move my hand from under him.

Every. Single. Time. Without fail, he’d panic waiting for me to save him from drowning, instead of focusing on getting to the wall.

“Go toward the wall, not me, ” I would say moving out of his path.”

He’d gasp for air when he reached the wall, giving me that can I please get out now mommy look.

Today though, he went with my sister. I didn’t feel like swimming and my halfway-around-the-fucking-world boyfriend wanted to talk as soon as I got home…so I didn’t go tonight. I was sitting in my room watching John Stewart on Hulu, when two wet people walked in breathing hard and excited.

“Mom I can swim!” The boy said before I could tell him to go back out and close the door. “I swam in 8 feet!”

My sister told me some long ass story about how great a teacher she is and then asked if I wanted to see him do it. She must’ve been reading my mind because, I was sitting there in utter disbelief. Was this confident man-child I saw before me the same crying little brat I who had scratched me a couple days ago when he tried to jump on my head and I moved away?

I grinned from ear to ear as we walked to the pool…My sister was asking me if I was really proud and all I could do is smile like an idiot.

When we go to the pool, the boy climbed down the ladder. He pulled his goggles down over his eyes and turned to my sister while still holding onto the wall.

“You read?” She asked.

“Ready,” he said.


As soon as she said it, he pushed off the wall. Kicking furiously, moving his arms and moving across the pool!


He stopped, winded on the other side of the pool. “I want to go back.”


I cheered as he swam across the pool, pushing himself hard, completely focused on making it all the way to the wall. He looked like he was working so hard, but I could tell he knew he could make it and that all he had to do was keep going.

And he did.

Two more laps later, he climbed out of the water, exhausted and breathing heavily.

I beamed at him as my heart swelled.

“That was a lot of work man,” I said holding back tears. “I’m so –” my voice cracked. “I’m so proud of you.” I hugged him tight as the tears spilled down my cheeks.”

As we walked him, I was filled with such pride. For so long now he thought he couldn’t do it and I reminded him that he would learn. And today…the boy swam from one side of the pool to the other.

The boy can swim and I am one proud momma.