Prissy Pants and Swim Lessons

My daughter is a Prissy Pants.

Even though she literally towers over her classmates, she still walks around as if on eggshells. Daintily stepping to and fro on her tippy tippy toes. She did this even BEFORE the dance lessons, so I think it's just in her nature.

I, on the other hand, was not unlike Godzilla in Tokyo at her age. I stumbled around, knocked children objects over and crushed them. Accidentally. Because I was born bereft of the "grace" gene apparently.

Back to Ms. Prissy Pants... I signed her up for swim lessons at the YMCA again this summer. Last year she was a little timid but warmed up to the idea of swimming and more specifically jumping. Oh, to jump and splash. Much giggling ensued. This year has been decidedly different.

First, she stuck her nose in the air at the very idea of wearing a bubble to help her remain afloat. "No thank you. I want a noodle please. A yellow one," she told her instructor.

Secondly, she refused to jump into the water! An activity that I could barely restrain last summer has become inexplicably "way uncool." Instead, she politely refused the instructor's hands and said "I think that I will use the steps, thank you."

Thirdly through infinity, she found it difficult to loosen up and enjoy the water. She was quite concerned about getting her face wet (and she didn't have the excuse that "she had her face on" like so many Southern Ladies). Also, she was overly anxious that the instructor would let go of her when it was her turn to get motored about while kicking her legs and crawling with her arms. She clung to him like a tiny (ok, not so tiny - actually rather large and cumbersome) starfish.

I was immediately reminded of an overturned beetle when it was her turn to float on her back. Stiff as a board she flailed around with arms and legs and anxiously tried to keep her hair dry. While I thought it was amusing, I'm sure her instructor felt quite differently.

(Upon further refection I believe that during the back floating experiment Muffin came up with a new abdominal exercise. Can't hurt to start young! Speaking of abs... Is it wrong to ogle a 17 year old swim instructor's abs? Holy cow!)

We have six lesson to go and when they are completed I will continue her instruction because no child of mine is going to be afraid to get her damn hair wet! Hmph!

Here, Muffin is praying to the Baby Jesus that her hair doesn't get too messed up. It's a prayer often uttered by Southern Ladies. What can I say, apparently I've taught her well.

In this photo the Swim Instructor is clearly alarmed. I'm not sure why. Maybe some of those "bubbles" didn't come from splashing?

Finally, Muffin illustrates her ability to mimic a beetle. Not relaxing in the least, she obediently kicks her stiff limbs per the instructor's wishes. Poor stiff anxious Muffin. Luv ya baby!