
20 years ago, the family live beside a swimming complex and our weekends evenings were spent in the water. Therefore, the fact that I've never managed to learn how to swim ... befuddles me. My dad did dunk me in the but I don't remember struggling. I was a fat kid but I don't remember people laughing at me. I could use a kick board and propel myself halfway across the pool but I don't remember why I stopped.
The school implemented compulsory swimming the year after I graduated. Right after that, I was afraid of showing up in the dodgy skirted swim suit that I had and to show off budding breasts. Puberty was a tough time.
Now that I've been there and know how unforgiving privileged waterbabies can be, Shea must learn to swim. It's really no fun growing up missing out on what others can do and be a backbencher that can't even trap water.

Superficial I may sound, Shea is growing up in an environment where judgements are passed quickly and children have no compassion nor patience. The world is moving at a speed where I can't help but feel that I ought to equip my child with ammunition just so that "she does not miss out".
Weekend time is now sun-block slathered time and I have never felt more determined to keep my daughter afloat.

I am enjoying this family time I get to spend with the rest of them who has made cameo appearances (they came to check out the swim coach I'm sure). Even Keidi has joined in and those wrinkly toes of her are simply the cutest disgusting little things I've ever seen.
Labels: Keidi, Shea