It was to be the first time he'd been swimming, since last summer, and, much as he loves a bath, I just knew a ginormous "tub" would be better than watching every episode of "Chuggington" on an endless loop, while drinking chocolate milk.
Apparently, I'm not as smart as I think I am.
Instead, Jones was PETRIFIED of the water - terrified, clinging to me, while his brother sat happily in a portable swing just under the shade of the covered porch. I tried the new pirate-themed boat I bought him. I tried the "Puddle Jumper" lifevest. I tried everything short of promising him a koozie full of Coca-Cola, and nothing seemed to help ... until it did.
Time is what it took. I started out holding a screaming child in the hot tub, hoping he'd get so distracted by watching the big kids play that he'd forget the "horror" he'd been subjected to. As his wails died down, I put him in the pirate boat. Eventually, he settled down enough to let go of my arm and, even, to smile.
Or maybe he'd just figured out that the quickest way to get out of there was to let me get the pictures I wanted, so that I'd let him out of the water? Actually, I didn't let him off the hook that easily. Our living at Mom and Daddy's most of the week means that the little man is going to HAVE to get used to a pool, because he's going to be in it a lot this summer. We've also got a beach trip coming up, not to mention various weekends to spend at Lake Chatuge, so I'm committed to getting him to warm up to water, no matter how cold it may be.
He ended up out of the hot tub and into the big pool for an hour or more, so I think we're on the right track.
We'd better be.
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