The Swimming Story

Some of you will remember that Rojo finally got into a body of water two years ago in Sisters, and that body of water was the "baby pool." He has not been in any body of water since. He has a good friend, J., with a pool at his house. This friend's pool was made for the friend. No deep end. Warm water. Just a great place to play, complete with a basketball hoop in the pool. J. has invited Rojo to swim no fewer than two thousand times over the years. No interest whatsoever.

We took J. to yogurt early last week, and when we dropped him off, his mother again invited Rojo to come swim sometime. She emphasized he could touch at all points in the pool, and that the water was warm, and nobody would splash him. He bit. Quick as you can say had-her-in-his-contact-list, he was texting poor J.'s mother to arrange the specifics.

It was "decided" (forced upon them) that we would come at 12:30 on Saturday. I mean to tell you that my boy walked down the steps into the pool like he'd done it a million times, and proceeded to spend the next TWO HOURS in total bliss. Could not get him out.

So, when he told camp that what would calm him down was "swimming," it was so ironic. 48-hours earlier swimming would have been a stressor, then suddenly it was a calming force.

Predictably unpredictable, that's the name of the game around here. I can't wait to see what he decides to love next.