This week Abigail finished her swim lessons. In five sessions with a private instructor, she started floating and moving in the water with only a noodle to help her. Last week I took her to the pool and had to chase her as she sped across the water on her back. At her final lesson, all I could see on her face were purple goggles and a huge smile. She liked her teacher. I’m not sure if it was Abigail’s personality, this particular instructor, the one-on-one ratio, or all of these factors combined. But for me, her mother, it was like watching a caterpillar cocoon. Abigail, who five weeks ago feared putting her face in the water, now floats away on the water with glee like a butterfly on a summer breeze.
