Scene at the pool

Gleek loves swim lessons. She loves them so much that she practices and practices her skills. She has amassed a whole repertoire of water tricks, most of which she tries to display while her teacher is trying to explain something else. I have great sympathy for Gleek’s swim teacher. “Stay put and listen” is not something Gleek does well even in less enthralling circumstances than a noisy pool full of kids and splashing. By the end of 30 minutes the teacher is very ready to hand Gleek back to me. Unfortunately the hardest part of swim lessons is getting Gleek out of the water. She has an endless stream of “one more things.” Each one delays the moment of pool exit. I get to stand on the edge of the pool, fully dressed, coaxing and warning of consequences. The problem is that all the swim lessons are scheduled back to back. The teacher needs Gleek out of the pool quickly, so that the next class can be welcomed. Today Teacher solved this problem by lifting Gleek out of the pool and handing her directly to me. This tactic did not go over well with Gleek.

It is not fun to stand at the side of a pool, holding the arm of a sopping wet, screaming child, who is desperately trying to jump back into the water. This especially not fun with a full audience of other parents and children. One of the things that I’ve had to learn while parenting Gleek is that to manage her appropriately I have to ignore the fact that I have an audience. If I go softer on her in public because people are watching, then I am just guaranteeing a future public showdown because she will push limits until the showdown is necessary. This is not because she is deliberately trying to defy me, she is just so full of energy that any limits feel confining to her. But the limits are necessary to keep her safe and to make sure that her behaviors do not impinge on the safety or enjoyment of others. We all have to accept limits.

I scooped the dripping, screaming Gleek into my arms and began to carry her from the pool. She was screaming that she wanted to show her teacher just one more thing, please just let her show one more thing. Truth be told, if I’d let her back into the water, Gleek would have done the one more thing and gotten back out happy. Probably. She might have asked for another one more thing. And another. But the teacher was gone and the next classes were already in the water. The time for showing things to teacher was over. Gleek wiggled free and ran toward the water. I called to her that if she got back into the water I was going to have to cancel the rest of her swim lessons because she couldn’t obey the pool rules. She stopped. She could tell that I really meant it. She did not get back into the water, but she did not stop screaming either.

A big tantrum has momentum. Even if Gleek can see that the original point is lost, she is still filled with emotion and it has to go somewhere. It takes real skill for a person to head off such a huge emotional head of steam. Gleek is working on developing those skills. Sometimes she amazes me with the control she has over herself. Even today in the midst of shrieking tantrum, she exhibited control. She did not jump in the pool. She did hit me, but she totally pulled her punches. Gleek is small for a seven-year-old, but she’s all muscle. She could really wallop if she wanted to. But even though she was mad enough to really do some damage, she didn’t. I could barely feel the “hits.” When I carried her out, she struggled, but she did not go into a full-out panicked thrash. If she did that, I would not be able to carry her at all, she is too big and strong these days.

There may have been parents at the pool who were totally shocked at my child’s behavior. They may have seen her as completely out of control and me in dire need of a parenting coach. They’re wrong. Yes we had a huge scene at the pool today, but Gleek was not out of control. She and I were both working very hard to reign in some out-of-control emotions that she was feeling. She was already winding down as we left the building. Once in the car, she started crying for her blankies. That’s a sure sign that the storm is over. I assured her that we were going to them as soon as we could. She started to wind back up crying for her blankies RIGHT NOW. I pulled the car over to the side of the road. I told her I was stopping to give her blankies, but I didn’t have them in the car with me. I’d like to drive to go get them, but I couldn’t drive with screaming in the car. Then there was silence punctuated by some sniffles and a little bit of foot kicking to vent the last of the feelings.

At home we snuggled with the blankies and talked about the event. We talked about why it happened and how to make sure that it does not happen again. We also discussed what consequences should be applied today to make sure that we don’t have a scene at the pool again. Gleek suggested she have to run a mile. Instead I said that she can’t play with friends today. This makes the rest of the day unpleasant for us all, but this one unpleasant day will insure that Gleek is a perfect angel at swim lessons for the rest of the summer. One of Gleek’s strong points is that she remembers. Once we have had a big scene to define a limit, she will remember where that limit is and stay well inside it. Gleek does not like the tantrums either.

We finished with a bath for her and dry clothes for me. That gave us a fresh start on the rest of the day. It seems to have worked, because the day is going smoothly.