Enough is enough... or should we keep trying?

In one of my past jobs, as a teacher, I had the privilege of taking part in the interview process for new, incoming teachers. If you ever want evidence of how we judge others, an interview process is exceptional. When you interview a prospective candidate, you really take them apart. Even though your intent may be benign or at least benignly self serving,   you really do dissect the candidate. You want to know what they are made of. If they will be a good match for your company. Rightfully so.

I remember discussing candidates, searching to identify “good” qualities. Perseverance. The ability work effectively when intimidated. Intelligence. Strength. Just to name a few.  One day, hopefully, someone will be doing this to my kids as they search for employment. I wonder what they will say about them.

Having two kids the same age, with very little help available, I am almost constantly outnumbered. As a result, there are limitations to the activities I can do with my children. Swimming is one of them.

My kids are not, to put it mildly, water babies. They can enjoy a kiddie pool when positively influenced by other kids but big pools are not such a great experience. We’ve taken them on vacation and they are willing to cling to us in the big pool. My son would be a little independent, but my daughter. No way…

My husband and I thought that signing them up for swimming lessons would be a great way to teach them to enjoy the pool.  Not really swimming lessons, to be brutally honest. Let’s calm them “water acclamation” lessons. Ahhh… the power of optimism to cloud ones view of reality.

Three weeks ago, on an average Saturday morning, it began. We arrived at the pool. No screaming. Excellent. We went into the pool and the kids clung like mad. Think Velcro. Think “White on Rice”. Ok, still no screaming though. When it came time to put on the floaties, all hell broke loose. Crap. This was not good. Let’s just say that over the next 30 minutes my kids contributed to the environment greatly, in noise and water. They screamed and wailed, crying and snotting the whole time. If you don’t need a drink after that, nobody ever did. The 20 minutes in the family bathroom afterwards, attempting to get two kids and two adults dressed was no quieter or less stressful. It amazes me that when an intelligent person creates a “family bathroom” they don’t bother to include features like lids on toilets and garbages.  Really? Trying to get two hysterical children dressed and keep their fingers out of the toilet is not always possible.

In a moment of insanity, I agreed to try again the next week. I figured it was only one day. Right? The next time would be better, right? Optimism can be pretty dangerous. He was ok, and she teased us a bit by tolerating the first 10 minutes. After that, not so much fun.  The bathroom situation was no improvement. Why then, you ask, did we go back for week 3? Good question.

My husband was convinced that perseverance was the key. I was not so convinced. But here’s the thing.  One of the reasons that my husband and I make the great pair we are is that we approach things differently. This particular moment represents our relationship well. He wants to move forward, no fear. I want to be cautious, think, and contemplate the next step. Luckily for us, we also communicate well (most of the time) so when we finally meet in the middle the decision tends to be a wise one.  This time, we decided to move forward.

This morning was week three. What a long morning it was. We entered the pool. She was fine. Yes! I put on the floatie… I had to sing the Dora song and pretend it was Dora’s backpack, but it worked like a charm. Yes!  She stepped into the water, voluntarily. Yes!

Then the lesson started. We moved into the deeper water. And here we go again…

It’s now official. I’m done. Despite being more than a little annoyed by the associated waste of money. It’s a 10 week class which means we will have wasted 70% of the cost for one kid. It wasn’t hugely costly, but that’s not really the point. Is it?

The point is quitting. When is the right time to quit? When do you say “enough is enough”? My husband says that she will have to learn to get over her fear of water. He’s right, of course. But she’s not even 3. Do we really have to force the issue right now? Should we keep on putting her in the water and letting her scream? If we keep it up, will she decide to hate it more? Or will she “get over it”? Do we just keep going and let her sit on the edge and watch?

 If we let her quit, are we just inviting this same unfortunate situation next time or will she outgrow it on her own?  Are we teaching her to quit? Starting her on the pattern of quitting? Because, when it comes time for her to be judged, many years from now, I don’t want to worry that we didn’t give her a chance to impress.

And equally importantly, how much more can I take?

Where’s the manual on this particular point of raising kids? I think it was left out of the edition of “Parenting 101” that I bought. Can I have the revised edition please?