Tonight was Cinderella's last swimming lesson. Being 4, she finally got to do lessons without mommy or daddy in the water with her, and with kids her own age instead.
Out of all the kids in her group (and there were at least 12 of them), she was the only one who didn't pass.
The only one.
From day one, I knew she wouldn't. This didn't come as a surprise. The instructors can't pass a child who won't put her head in the water, and I knew Cinderella wouldn't. She has made that perfectly clear on many occasions.
Still, having the foreknowledge didn't numb me completely upon receiving the news. While I was mentally prepared, my heart still twitched and pounded a little harder.
I wanted to defend my little girl; I wanted to explain things. I want to take Cinderella swimming every day and try to coax her under, try to pry her feet up off of the bottom of pool, and make her prove to herself that she can at least doggie paddle to get around in the water.
But I didn't, and I won't. I simply sat quietly and smiled. I congratulated her on a job well done, and had her thank her instructor for teaching her how to swim.
Honestly? She's clueless.
She had fun with kids her own age. She splashed and jumped and did almost everything her instructor asked her to do, as long as it didn't involve putting her head under the water. She was compliant and attentive. She had a blast.
Isn't that enough to celebrate? Isn't that enough to ask of a four year old?
Yes. Yes, I think it is.