What impresses me most is the benefit of allowing him freely to explore the boundaries of where he feels comfortable. This involves both not pushing him and not restraining him. The latter category included allowing him to play freely at the very edge of the pool. He would walk around the brick border, stopping occasionally to paddle his hands in the water, or to play with water toys. He was supremely and amazingly competent at knowing his limits and his center of gravity, sometimes leaning out over the edge, sometimes lying down on his stomach so he could safely reach further. It reminded me of the times when our children would climb fearlessly on the playground, not only to the tops of the apparatus meant for climbing, but also those that weren’t, including the swing sets. Sometimes I would have to sit on the bench, eyes glued to my book, allowing myself only occasional peeks at their activity, in order to keep my fears from infecting them. Of course with him near the water we had to watch Jonathan all the time, but Heather showed admirable motherly restraint as she let him explore.
And equally admirable restraint in not pushing him to experience more than he was ready for. She would periodically offer him opportunity to explore new skills: “swimming” while firmly supported by Mommy’s hands, swimming between Mommy and Grandma—which amounts at this point to little more than being passed from one set of hands to the other—hanging by his hands from the side of the pool, jumping in, floating on his back, lying on his back on the steps, blowing bubbles in the water. He was only comfortable with the first of these, and she never insisted.
He loved to sit on the steps and play around, and here the learning process was most obvious. Gradually he, himself, extended the range of what he was comfortable with. A great breakthrough was discovering that he could hold himself up with his hands on a step and let his legs float freely behind him; from this position he could kick his legs enthusiastically and experiment with the motions of swimming. He would push himself slightly deeper, slightly further away from the security of the highest step, coming back periodically to the safest position, as if to reassure himself that he could always get there if necessary. He experimented with jumping into the water, from a sitting position, being caught by Heather before he face went under water—most of the time. Occasionally he would end up further in than intended, and would take in some water. He handled that well, not fussing, but retreating to a more secure level of play before regaining courage and reaching out again.
Yesterday afternoon he had exhausted everyone’s desire to swim except Grandma’s, whose desire to stay warm and dry was outstripped by her desire to please and observe him. This time he spent a lot more time playing on his own, not being sure yet that Grandma was a reliable substitute for Mommy when it came to holding him in the water. So he experimented, and played, and I watched. (And fetched the rings he kept throwing in to me.) He played for hours. At one point we both were out of the water, and he played for a long time with the pool brush, sweeping both the pool and the deck. He played, that is, until he noticed that I had wrapped a towel around myself: “No towel! Go swimming!” and back we went to the pool with renewed enthusiasm. That was his response every time I suggested he might want to go inside and get dressed.
After one such scare that I might make him go inside, Jonathan suddenly decided, completely on his own, to try out many of the experiences we had introduced him to earlier. He flung himself off the steps into my arms so we could “swim.” He wanted to swim to the side, then to the other side, “other side, “other side.” (Head still above water, but legs and arms flailing.) Upon reaching each side he happily held on for several seconds while I let go completely. He asked to swim to the steps, then for me to help him “lie down on steps.” This put him in the floating position, with his ears under water and his feet floating freely, but with his head and back securely on the step, and my arms holding him. After trying this for a few seconds several times, he announced, “self,” and lay down without being held. Then he wanted to do the same on the second step down, which meant that I had to hold him, as he was really floating completely—so we drifted away from the steps and floated around in the pool! He never did relax, and is not close to true floating on his own yet, but what a tremendous step he has taken. Heather prepared the soil and planted the seed; unobserved, Jonathan tended the growing plant; I was privileged to be there to see the bud begin to open!
