Tonight was the second to the last session of Ione’s swimming lessons, and she is regressing. We started out the lessons with great joy, splashing in the pool, dunking, doing the crawl stroke and having general fun. It’s been downhill from there. Last week she made it about 10 minutes through the lesson before freaking out and insisting on getting out of the pool. All because the teacher had to help her with her backfloat. At least, that was her story. So, she sad cuddled up in my lap, soaking my dress through. No amount of encouragement, teasing, threats or bribery was going to get that girl back in the water. I left the pool tense and looking to the wide world like I had wet myself.

 

This week she started out with a refusal to go at all. Which would have been fine. I am not going to force her. But then, at the last minute, she changed her mind. She seemed just fine when we got there. She was happy and chattty. Then, without incident, the mood changed. She refused to get in. Once her friend showed up she relented. But about, oh...i dunno...48 seconds later, she was in tears again and asking the teacher if she could get out. The teacher did a nice job of offering some alternatives--you can hold on to the side and watch, i could help you more, etc. Nope. She got out, I put her flip flops and robe on and we went home. I just didn’t have the energy so sit there through the rest of the lesson like I had the week before.

 

The same thing has been happening at Sunday School lately. She now stays in the service because she refuses to go to her classroom. This week, Jim happened to preach. Part way through his sermon I noticed that Ione was raising her hand. She had a question. She kept her hand up the ENTIRE sermon. Jim never called on her. I figured he couldn’t see her because she was sitting behind an adult. But he did. He just thought if he called on her he might embarass her and that would be worse. And it probably would have. She would get mad at him for calling on her and making her feel embarassed. The thing that makes the most sense is rarely the thing that works for her.  Our daily conundrum.