We had back sliding on the swim lessons yesterday. There was a new girl in the class, and David freaked out. All the behaviors from week one reappeared: crying, refusing to get near the water, and bargaining. It was miserable and ridiculous. He was looking forward to a class with just his teacher and his new friend. When that didn't happen, he lost it. At least I sort of understood what had thrown him, but I told him he needed to find his courage.

I was terrified I was in for another two weeks of trying to figure out how to parent this. But, with a combination of bribes--I'll take videos of you swimming, you'll get a sticker on your chart; options--you could take class with a different teacher; and threats--I will only stay to watch if you are in the water; he got in. (Any suggestions on other ways to punctuate that sentence? It's a doozy.)

And not only did he get in, but he swam across the width of the pool for the very first time. He put together everything he's learned about kicking, pulling, and breathing and actually swam for the first time ever. It was exhilarating.