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She turned around for her usual thumbs up — and this time, there was no bubble.

From infancy, my daughter has struggled to embrace peace. The more exhausted she gets, the more wired she becomes. There is no hopping up on the couch for an impromptu nap. Bedtime and naptime were struggles–and still are, at times. 

Her brain is on fire with curiosity and imagination. When there is a yard task in the dirt, she is up to her elbows in the garden. If she finds a worm? Even better. When we do science experiments, her impulse is to touch the materials and supplies so she can learn by doing. Sometimes she looks like she’s not paying an ounce of attention, but she hears and absorbs everything. She is a deeply sensitive soul who tries to come off as unbothered — but she feels deeply and loves even deeper.

She learns by diving in… literally. When she clung to my leg instead of diving onto the soccer field, I didn’t know how to handle the situation.

At around 3 years old, the pressure to sign her up for activities started creeping in. Relatives asked “is she starting soccer soon”? As a January baby, she was ready for fall activities with the start of her full-day nursery program. She said she wanted to try it, so off we went to get cleats and a uniform… 

She hated it. 

Every week, she clung to my leg while my other daughter, a lively toddler, kept running onto the field to play. My older daughter was anxious and unhappy. My younger daughter was living her best life. I was beyond frustrated.

It was cold and muddy. She was 3 years old.

But I had paid $300 for the community clinic and it felt like every other child loved soccer (my perception, not reality)– so why couldn’t my daughter just hang in there for an hour of trotting around? 
I came to my senses. I stopped dragging us all to the field because we left cranky and frustrated–which is so not the point of a new extracurricular. It should be a building up rather than a tearing down. So soccer ended. No tears were shed.

Not Every Lane Is Ours

When it came time to sign her up for swimming lessons at the local community pool, I secretly dreaded another organized extracurricular. Soccer-clinic PTSD. But, we have a boat and we try to maximize our summers, so learning to swim and water safety are a top priority–even if it’s a challenge. 

Much to my surprise, last summer’s morning swim lessons were magical. Maybe God put the right instructor in our lives at the right time or maybe my daughter had just hit a different level of maturity or maybe the past year in a structured school setting had helped her have patience and follow instructions… Whatever it was, it made last summer one of the best ever. 

Our routine was: wake up, eat breakfast, pack out the big tote bag and cooler of snacks that would get us to nap time, load into the car or walk if we had enough time, and head straight to swim lessons. Monday through Thursday, we were at the pool from 9am-1pm, sometimes later. Maybe this was also the magic of routine, but there was never any protest over swimming like there had been with soccer. 

She smiled the entire time she was in the pool. As the weeks went on, the instructor allowed the swimmers to jump off the side of the pool and land on a float. When it was her turn, she asked the instructor to move back so she had more of a challenge to jump further from the safety of dry land. 

I watched her in awe. I know her- I could tell when she was hesitant and calculating the risk. She did it anyway, 90% of the time. And then she would look up at me with the biggest smile that she had accomplished something amazing–and she had!

A Different Kind of Peace

Maybe the soccer situation wasn’t any indication of my daughter’s temperament. There was nothing wrong with her response or my struggle and frustration. It just was. Maybe she just needed to trade her cleats for goggles. She found something she loves. 

Morning after morning, my then 4-year-old started fresh from the day before. She tried new strokes and exercises. She recognized the risk, but realized there was support in her instructor and us as her cheering squad on the side of the pool. She never compared one lesson to the next or microanalyzed her performance. She just was! Each morning was enough. No pressure. Just peace… 

Peace.
My daughter was at peace.

The little girl who has always struggled to be at rest was sitting still — enjoying the water, looking up at the sky, waiting patiently for her turn.

When she floated with the help of the lifeguard instructor, she fought the float as she developed trust. As the summer went on, she became more relaxed in her “starfish” floating position. 

Maybe we can learn from this moment that it’s ok to test trust before letting go and being held by family, a higher power, prayer, or our efforts when faced with a challenging moment, no matter how big or small. 

We were so sad to see the summer swim lessons end–me, as a mom, especially. It was such a special time for us every morning centered on something so ordinary it was painfully beautiful. Her lifeguard swim instructor was incredibly patient, supportive, and calm. My daughter, true to form, felt his vibe and I have no doubt that contributed to her ease and trust in him. 

I cried while writing him a thank you note and dropping a gift card in an envelope for him as he finished his last days at the pool for the summer before returning to college. I tried to explain that his gift of peace and love of swimming made our summer magical and had allowed our daughter’s confidence to grow exponentially. Most important: She was happy while learning water safety. 

I knew this magic might not repeat itself. 

I looked into fall swim lessons in an indoor facility anyway. They were so expensive. I reached out to the Mother’s Club– a group of local moms who meet and talk regularly (even if just text!) as a support system. I asked about their experiences at local pools, which came back as a mixed bag of opinions and personal stories (most less than amazing). I had forgotten that my daughter’s babysitter’s daughter swam and taught lessons at a particular swim club. I looked again: the cost was daunting. 

That cost bothered me for about 10 minutes. We would make it work. I made phone calls to the cable company, changed cell phone providers, and did grocery store pick-ups to make up the difference for her tuition. 

When I tell you that my daughter has not protested a single swim lesson in the past year, I’m speaking the truth. Every weekend, she happily dons her suit, sweats, and crocs. She fills her pool bag with her goggles and some snacks for the ride home. She seems to have developed a sense of autonomy in a routine that she loves. 

We park the car and she skips into the pool area–literally skips with joy. She takes her street clothes off, puts her goggles on her head, and jumps up into the chair next to me while she waits for her name to be called. Every weekend, without fail, she hears her name and starts to walk to the door–but not before turning back for a quick thumbs up of assurance from me. 

She walks right into the pool area with her instructor and follows directions. In the past year, I have seen her swimming improve as she is learning the strokes, strong kicks, and floating on her back. 

She never gives up. Even when it’s hard. Even when I know she’s tired. She keeps going! No apologies for her tiredness (which we so often do as adults). She is fully present and peaceful for the entire swim session. That in and of itself is priceless. 

The Bubble

A few weeks ago, she took a make-up class with a different instructor. I watched her through the glass as she got into a lane with her class–and I noticed she didn’t have a flotation bubble on her back. Without it, she struggled. The young instructor bounced back and forth between my daughter and the older swimmers. 

After a few minutes, the decision felt clear — she needed the bubble, plan or not. The director apologized, but safety and confidence mattered more than the lesson plan.

When my daughter spotted the director walking toward her with the bubble, her face fell. She knew she needed one, but she wanted to push herself to be like the big, strong kids. I watched as my daughter looked at the director, said no, thank you, and then right at me as though she knew I was the one who made this happen. I mouthed “put it on” and she complied, but reluctantly so. 

She swam with much greater ease with the bubble, but when she came out of the lesson, she was deflated and said she didn’t want to wear it anymore. I understood, but safety came first. When she continued to practice and grow stronger, she wouldn’t have to wear one.

In Her Own Lane

This past weekend, she started the spring session of lessons, which is now her 4th round of lessons since that magical pool summer of last. 

She was put into a group with two older girls who are very strong swimmers. 

And… no. bubble. 

I watched. I waited. I watched. 

She swam. She struggled. She tried.  

I waited. I watched. I prayed. 

She was supported and safe. The instructor was next to her the entire time. I kept thinking she must be so incredibly tired without the help of the bubble. She just kept going. And smiling despite the challenge. She didn’t seem to care that the older kids were so far ahead and swimming with ease while she bopped along trying to keep her head up and do her strokes at the same time. She was in her “own lane.” 

I was so proud of her tenacity. 

She came trotting out of the pool, sopping wet and smiling. I held out a towel for her and wrapped her up tightly, giving her a firm hug. I focused on the positive: her smile throughout the lesson and her efforts to swim strong. I didn’t mention the bubble situation or how tired she must be. 

When we got in the car, she told her grandmother about swimming. She said: “It was hard, but I kept trying and trying. I didn’t give up.”

There are so many lessons here — simple ones, if we don’t let adult life get in the way. To have courage and accept support. To be calm and supportive for other people so they can relax and shine in our presence. To smile through the challenge and stay in our own “lane.” To never give up–even when it’s hard. 

Sometimes we are ready to take off the bubble of what has been holding us back from growth, even if we bob and struggle as we find our strokes. The sense of self-pride overwhelms any sense of competition with others. 

The expense of those swim lessons? Worth every penny and every sacrifice. 

Swimming lessons… $280/session

Goggles… $30

Swimsuits… $50

Towel… $20

Swim robe… $52

Crocs… $25

My daughter’s peace, joy, and confidence in the pool… PRICELESS

What We Actually Use for Swim Lessons

Some posts on Spruceprints contain affiliate links. This means I may earn a small commission at no extra cost to you if you make a purchase through these links. I only recommend products I personally use and love.

Swimming lessons have a cost. The gear has a cost. Even the forgotten-towel panic purchase had a cost.

But when something aligns with your values — when you see your child growing in confidence and peace — you find a way to make it work.

Here’s what we actually use each week. I pack it on top of our clothes drawer system that I’ve shared here on Spruceprints. Nothing over-the-top. Just what’s held up, helped her feel confident, and made our Saturdays seamless.

Goggles
These were recommended by my sister-in-law, who has a pool and kids who practically live in it. I probably wouldn’t have chosen the $25 pair on my own, but the goggles don’t leak or get tangled in her long hair. 

Swimsuit
We rotate through a couple, but this Speedo suit has held up to chlorine and constant use. It fits well, stays put, and lets her focus on swimming instead of adjusting straps. She calls it her “running bathing suit” because of the athletic look — which makes her feel strong before she even gets in the water.

Towel
A simple towel — thin, quick-drying, and easy to stuff in the bag. 

Swim Robe
An unplanned purchase after I forgot her towel one week. She had been eyeing the bright ones for months. It isn’t necessary — but she loves wrapping up in it after class. Sometimes joy wins.

Pool Bag
A gift from my sister-in-law, who believes winter babies deserve summer gear too. It dries quickly, holds everything, and has survived more than a year of weekly lessons without falling apart. Similar one linked here.

Crocs
Easy on, easy off. Wet feet, dry feet, no drama. Add cute shoe charms for a stocking stuffer or birthday gift!