I Think I Know Why They're So Cranky

I mean those stepsisters of Cinderella.

Because they were trying to make something (their feet) fit into something that it was impossible to fit them into (the glass slipper).

I've been trying to make something (my children) fit into something that it was impossible to fit them into (the same swim class).

OK.

I give up.

It was a perfect dream of an activity for my children. All three of them, swimming together in a class.

Until the coach said Braeden needed to be moved to a higher level.

I tried to make my case for the three children at the same time dream. He said, "Emma would be fine moved up but Mark would get run over."

My dream was slipping away.

I looked at Braeden and I looked at Mark and felt sheepish that I'd even been trying to squeeze them in the same class.

They are six years apart and while they're pretty equal with their Bionicles knowledge, light saber prowess and Lego building, they're not equal in their strength or swimming ability.

So I moved Braeden to a different class, kept Emma and Mark in the first class and geared up to go to the pool five times a week.

Until last night.

That dream, that I've Never Had It So Convenient dream, finally shattered into pieces on the cement poolside.

Mark wouldn't get out of the pool. Practice was over and he wouldn't budge. He was mad and sad and intimidated and his pleas to me that he just wanted to quit were going on deaf ears.

So he staged a protest. His coach tried to get him out but then Coach Paul, the kindly and rotund coach of the more advanced team, came over. With the gentleness of a man who knows children, he coaxed Mark out of the pool. He led him to the side and was consoling a tearful Mark when I finally made my way to them. (Mark had decided to plant himself in the pool as far as he possibly could from where I was sitting).

Coach Paul asked Mark how old he was.

Mark said, "Six."

"Six?"

Mark nodded.

"You don't look six. You're a big boy."

Then Coach Paul, with his arm protectively on Mark's shoulder turned to me. He told me about the under 8 class. He told me that sometimes we expect more out of big kids even though they're still young. He told me Mark would be much happier in the younger class.

Grasping at straws, still trying to keep at least two of my kids swimming at the same time, I said, "Well, I have this ten year old daughter..."

Coach Paul interrupted me, "Absolutely not. It's only eight and under."

And that was the end of my dream. That lovely three-kids-swimming-at-the-same-time dream.

So now we are signed up for SEVEN swim practices a week. We'll do it for the month of October and then reassess.

For now, I'll do it.

Because as much as I love dreams of ease, I love my three different children. I won't try to squeeze them into what they're not just to make things better for me.

But I do understand the angst of those stepsisters.