peevish mama

Saint James and Supergirl did us proud on swim team this year.  The first day of swim practice they both looked like they were going to drown trying to do freestyle.  This, after hundreds upon hundreds of dollars spent on swimming lessons at Foss Swim School.  Nothing can be learned in weekly half hour sessions.  But throw them in the pool every morning of the summer with a bunch of other kids in goggles and the sweetest, most encouraging swim coaches you’ve ever seen, and suddenly they’re tucking away five laps, ten laps, twenty laps.  At the end of the season, Saint James emerged from the pool, water streaming off his tan shoulders, and panted that he had swum forty-three laps in practice.  Man alive!  I couldn’t do that if I was being chased by a madman with flippers and a hatchet.  They learned to dive off the blocks and glide before busting into their approximation of whatever stroke they were supposed to be swimming.  They learned that they rock at breaststroke (it runs in my family).  They learned about heats and times and what DQ means (not Dairy Queen).  They learned to lose, they learned to win.

And then there are the things that can’t be learned: some things you just bring with you.  We went to the swim banquet last night, which was hilarious in that it ended with nearly a hundred little kids in a dancing frenzy. I am so hiring this DJ for somebody’s birthday party when the time is ripe.  I kissed a girl and I liked it . .  The taste of her cherry chapstick. . . I can’t get this song out of my head!  I think some mothers found this wildly inappropriate for a bunch of children (it’s a girl singing), but you won’t find me getting all Tipper Gore.  Music is never the real problem.  It was a blast.  

So we were all basking in the afterglow of the kids getting their trophies topped with the little gold man and woman in start position, when all of a sudden Supergirl gets called up to receive the Team Spirit Award!  The little monkey!  First summer out of the gate, she’s one of the youngest kids on the team, can barely make it across the pool herself at first, yet she manages to give enough encouragement to the other water sprites to merit an award.  I never actually saw her cheering anyone on – mostly I saw her either eating Cheetos or Skittles or a cheeseburger flipped upside-down with one bun off – then again, I wasn’t really paying attention when the other kids swam (no team spirit award for me).  But, we’ve got the plaque to prove it, baby! 

I’m always quite touched and gratified when my kids are nicer than me.  When Saint James’ preschool teacher told me that he was the kid who was friends with everyone and that he was especially kind to one little shy girl with glasses and actually got her talking about movies, I just clutched my heart and sniffed contentedly.  So he’s not going to be a cliquey bitch like me, I marveled.  I think I actually did get the school spirit award in high school, but I was more of a Tracy Flick from Election:  the girl who insisted on planning everything because she had control issues.  Scary peppy. We’re going to have fun, or else!

It tickles my cockles that Supergirl’s team spirit just came right out of her own little self – unfiltered, unpremeditated, unforced.  Just pure joy and enthusiasm.  If the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, it must roll a little.