I am convinced that Jedediah is part fish. The kid started swimming before he was three-years-old. By three-and-a-half, he could ride the big slides at the pool and swim to the side by himself. Last summer, parents fighting with their preschoolers just to get their ears wet would look at him admiringly, and then ask me, “How old is he?” I would tell them he was three-and-a-half. Then inevitably, the parent would ask, “How did you teach him to do that?!”

Ten years ago, I would have puffed out my chest and explained how we did this and that, and how our plan was the only way to teach a kid to swim and good-luck with your little she-cat there if you don’t follow the plan. *big sigh* Please forgive me if you knew me then.

As you already know if you have more than one child, there is rarely just one way to do anything in the realm of parenting (or anything else for that matter). The preschool swimming plan I had with Ransom didn’t work with Memphis. (big surprise.) Ransom went to swim lessons, paid attention, participated, and graduated from the guppies in record time.

Memphis (let me pause for a breath here), Memphis STOOD on the pool deck for the first SEVEN days of the TEN day guppy swim course. I am not kidding. How is that possible? Didn’t the instructor just finally throw her in? Not so fast—this is Memphis, and she was three. First, Instructor Liz (all of eighteen-years-old) told me to butt out and just sit in a chair—she said parents just slow down the process (ok, she was probably right). Then, she walked Memphis to the edge of the pool with the other guppies. The other guppies eased into the water with Instructor Liz, while Memphis sat down on the pool deck just out of reach. Instructor Liz ignored it and tried to make guppy class look like the best playground on the planet. Memphis just looked at her. Finally, about halfway into the session, Liz turned her attention to Mem.

“Ok, now it’s your turn, Memphis! Doesn’t this look fun?” Liz said in her sing-song voice.

“No, No thank you,” Memphis said, standing firmly on the deck crossing her arms. Repeat five or six times, with Liz losing some of her peppiness with each request. Finally, Liz got out of the pool to physically put Memphis in the pool.

“I have to go pee, now! Really, or I will pee in the pool!” Memphis yelled, striking an award winning potty dance pose. Several other instructors and parents looked over, alarmed at the prospect of a peeing guppy on the pool deck.

Liz took a deep breath, nodded, and let her go. Oh Liz. You have made your first mistake. This is a signature move that Memphis used many times to escape situations, whether it was dinner out in a restaurant, a dressing room, or an airplane. There is nothing like a three-year-old screaming that she will pee her pants if…but I digress.

I tried bribing Memphis to get in the pool with candy, little ponies, tv time. I threatened. I punished. Nothing worked. Liz repeated her little routine with Mem each day, Memphis hid in the bathroom multiple times, and I wondered why I had paid for a guppy-out-of-water class. Then inexplicably, on day eight, Memphis got in like she had done it every day. Liz gave me a little victory sign and high fived me after the class, but I knew full well that Liz and I had nothing to do with it.

Fortunately, last summer when those parents asked me how I had gotten Jet to swim, I shrugged my shoulders and said, “I dunno. We just keep coming and getting in the water. He had lessons (bubble blowing class), but mostly he’s been in the water a lot. When he has shown interest, we encourage him to kick or stroke or breathe, but we just come and play in the water as much as possible.”

I often forget that playing is the best way to learn anything. Whether it is potty-training, reading, soccer, or anything else, kids do it when they are ready and when it’s fun. As a parent, I too often looked at my kids’ milestones as a competition or a measure of my parenting skills. Of course I still seek out counsel and guidance from ‘experts’ and other sources, but in the end, I try to remember that each kid develops differently, and I need to honor them where they are. Otherwise, I am just stressing out myself and all the little guppies.