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Last night, I found myself in the midst of what can only be labeled a parenting blunder. I was utterly unprepared for the situation at hand.
My three-year-old has been attending swimming lessons for the past nine weeks. However, at the start of last night’s class, there was a mix-up that left my daughter feeling confused about where to go. Her instructor gently patted her head in an attempt to soothe her, but as her classmates headed off to the showers, I watched her unravel.
She anxiously scanned the area filled with parents, caught my gaze, and sprinted toward me, collapsing into my arms and sobbing. This wasn’t typical behavior for her, but I understood the confusion from the beginning of class had shaken her confidence. I had thought she would overcome it.
I was mistaken.
The tears and the iron grip she had on me signaled that I needed to employ some serious negotiation tactics, but inside, I was in a state of panic. This was not my child. Why was she reacting this way? I tried to maintain an upbeat demeanor, using every technique I could recall.
- “Let’s take deep breaths!”
- “Let’s go for a walk, calm down, and return!”
- “Let’s just dip your toes in the pool until you feel ready!”
None of it worked. Instead, her mood quickly worsened, and she began wailing (with an audience), “I want to go homeeeeeeee!”
My patience was wearing thin. I felt a loss of control. I reminded myself that a three-year-old does not dictate our plans. I AM THE PARENT. We weren’t leaving. I was determined to turn this around.
With a shift in strategy, I abandoned the cheerful approach. I transformed into Stern Mommy, the one who meant business. Surely, she would respond to my change in tone.
- “GET in the pool.”
- “You do this every week.”
- “Right now. Get in. Get in. Right now.”
At this point, her tears had subsided, yet she remained steadfast. She looked at me defiantly, refusing to budge.
“No. I’m not getting in.”
Stern Mommy had left the building. Desperate Mommy had taken over. I resorted to threats and ultimatums, aimed at a three-year-old.
- “If you don’t learn to swim now, we can’t go swimming at Nana’s this summer.”
- “Good. I don’t want to swim at Nana’s.”
- “If you don’t get in, we won’t be coming back next week.”
- “Good. I don’t want to come back.”
- “If you don’t get in, we’re going home, and you’ll go to bed without any storytime.”
- “Good. I don’t want to read.”
With each threat, I felt a growing sense of desperation. I knew I was in the wrong, yet I couldn’t let it go. I crouched down to her level, regretting my choice of long sleeves in the sweltering aquatic center. My emotional state only added to my discomfort as sweat trickled down my back while I pleaded with her.
For 30 minutes, we engaged in this standoff until I finally relented. I took her hand (perhaps a bit too firmly) and headed to the parking lot, feeling utterly humiliated. Silence filled the car ride home.
This behavior was uncharacteristic for her. She’s usually brave, well-behaved, and sweet. But if I’m honest, she’s also shy. She takes time to adjust, and when uncomfortable, she tends to withdraw, sometimes even breaking down.
Instead of validating her emotions and attributing it to a rough day, I almost lost my cool. I felt embarrassed by her refusal to participate and frustrated with myself for letting her have the upper hand.
In truth, we both lost.
Later, as she prepared for bed, still pouting slightly, I told her I loved her. I left her room with the words, “Let’s not think about swimming lessons tonight and start fresh tomorrow.”
Start fresh tomorrow. Wise words I offered my daughter—words I needed to heed myself.
In my brief time as a parent, I’m learning how inadequate moments like this can make me feel. They often arise unexpectedly, especially after I’ve been feeling proud of my parenting skills. Perhaps these experiences are meant to ground me and instill humility. Or maybe toddlers are simply unpredictable creatures with limited reasoning abilities. Regardless, I’ve come to understand that parenting is a rollercoaster of highs and lows. I have days where I feel like a great mom and days that are less than stellar. This was undoubtedly a challenging one. I was unsure of how to proceed, and even in the moment, I recognized I wasn’t at my best. I allowed myself the evening to reflect but resolved to take my own advice.
I, too, will start fresh tomorrow.
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