The grumpy little shrimp

Sawyer started swim classes a week ago, and we’ve got two classes under our belt. I say “we” because I am his swimming buddy, that person you climb like a tree when you’re afraid of getting water up your nose. (Side note: I sadly have no pictures with this post because I am in the water being climbed like a tree. But I hope to take Daddy or Grandmother to take pictures one week.)


The class offered by the YMCA is one of several geared for kids, this one being the youngest kids … who they call the “shrimps.” (They aren’t being mean; the names are all after sea creatures.) The little shrimps range from 6 months to 3 years old. I had tried several times to sign Sawyer up when he was younger, but we kept missing the registration deadline. In the fall, I remembered to check on it and wrote a note on my calendar and set a reminder on my phone for the sign-up date.

The teacher is great. Very laid back guy who has kids of his own and knows how they can be. Very encouraging to the kids. I think he understands that most of these kids aren’t going to be doing laps after six classes, so he doesn’t sweat when they don’t really do the exercises we’re supposed to try in the pool.

Sawyer is having fun, I think. I know he loves the water, and he’s been less afraid than I feared he might be. But I’m not sure he trusts me or himself enough to really try some of the strokes.

I’m trying really hard to let go of my perfectionist tendencies and just make it fun. Of course, I want him to succeed, but I don’t want to end up with a child who’s afraid of the water because I pushed him to hard.

However, I was thrilled today when we got in the pool before the class started. I held him out in the water, and the kid was doing a perfect flutter kick and paddling both arms. I thought, for sure, he’d get called out in the class for his excellent form.

Until the class started.

He spent the majority of it whining, grunting or saying “noooo.”

The funny part to me is watching the difference between the babies and Sawyer (who’s one of two kids at the older end of the age range … Does that make him a jumbo shrimp?). The babies will just float around, splash and pretty much go along with however the parents hold them. On the flip side, the older kids have better control over their movements and CAN follow directions.

Today, however, my stubborn toddler did not do those things.

When I told him to swim or kick, he said, “Noooo!” in a volume that seemed to echo through the natatorium. He pitched a huge fit because the other jumbo shrimp, a little girl who’s clearly been through these lessons before, had James the train engine. Sawyer had Thomas, but that was NOT good enough. He needed both.

He howled when I set him out of the pool, like we’re supposed to do for them to practice jumping in. He would not hold onto the kickboard; he had to push it ahead of us and try to flip it onto my head (which barely stays out of the water already).

He was so grumpy and obstinate through the whole class, I seriously thought we’d have to leave early.

But as soon as class was over and the teacher was gone, he turned back into a little water angel. He wanted to swim around and jump in. He was doing his flutter kicks again. I seriously thought I’d have to drag him out.

The two funniest moments: At the end, we were swimming back and forth across the width of the pool and another mom (or maybe grandmom) and baby were still there. Since Sawyer loves numbers so much, I’d convince him to swim to the depth markers on the side of the pool: No. 4 and No. 3. We’d touch the number and then swim to the other side again. He kept saying, “Number 5, number 5” and the other mom got a good laugh out of me telling him that mama is not tall enough to take him out to No. 5.

When we were leave, we have to pass a huge banner in the lobby with the Greensboro Grasshoppers logo on it. Sawyer pointed it out again today and said, “Hey, Grasshoppah. (Walked a few steps.) Bye, Grasshoppah.”