So here we are, back at swimming again. It's been a while since I've written about the stresses of swimming or eating, so it was about time wasn't it?
LittleBear is still having swimming lessons, and still loving it. He's turned into a proper little fish, and has even coped with multiple changes of teacher without batting an eyelid. Which is great. It does also mean his current teacher is completely oblivious to all our early trauma. Which is probably great.
Today, towards the end of the lesson, the new teacher decided to get the children doing a straddle jump into the pool, to keep their heads above water. They'd already swum across the pool underwater and dived to the bottom to collect a weight, so this was not exactly at the daunting end of what they'd been doing. But it was new. And LittleBear is not fond of new. As the first child attempted this new undertaking, LittleBear stood shaking his head slightly, hands clutched together, muttering, "I don't think I can do that...". As the second child jumped, LittleBear took a step backwards, away from the edge of the pool.
And then it was LittleBear's turn.
And not knowing any different, the teacher called him forward, told him what to do and simply expected him to do it. And he did. Not only did he do it, he did it beautifully, arms outstretched, legs astraddle, head remaining completely above water. He was delighted with himself.
Then it was time to climb out and get warm and dry again. LittleBear trotted over to me and said, "I feel... so.... so... so... excited with myself for doing something I've never done, I almost feel like crying!"
Which is possibly the most adorable, emotionally-literate, tear-wellingly gorgeous thing my precious boy has ever said. I'm not sure if I'm more proud of him for doing something he'd never done before, or for being so able to express his feelings on the subject.