Swim Lesson Failures

Today was the last day of swimming lessons for my daughters, at least until Spring brings warmer weather and we no longer have to worry about their wet hair freezing on the walk from the car to the house. When the girls walked in our kitchen door, I was surprised at how upset they both looked. Normally, they love their swim lessons. Pig had, in fact, taken a few pictures of them really enjoying themselves at their final lessons today. I wondered why they had such long faces after having such a fun time.

Were they upset because there will be a few months in-between these lessons and the next ones? No, that wasn't it. Were they angry because their classes were smaller today because a bunch of people never showed up after yesterday's bizarrely early snowstorm? Nope, it wasn't that either. Had they fought with one another about who was the better swimmer? Not as far as I could tell.

I asked Pig why the girls were so upset and he explained that one was very nervous and the other was depressed. It turns out that Rooster, the younger by three years, had been promoted to the next level and Horse had not. Rooster was nervous about moving up the ranks. Horse was depressed that her little sister was better at something than she was.

I chose to not comment to either girl at that moment. I said, "Ah. Okay." Then we moved on to another subject matter.

A while later, Rooster's behavior had returned to normal. I figured that was a good sign that she would adjust to her advancement before time comes to sign up for the next class. She might get really nervous about anything new or different, but when she has enough time to think about it, she generally calms down and accepts whatever change life threw at her.

Horse, however, still looked pretty upset. I called her into the kitchen and laid out the two participatory certificates the girls had received today. I asked her if she was upset because she felt that her sister was better at swimming than she was. She replied in the affirmative. I then showed her the checklist of requirements each of them had to complete before moving on to the next level. Horse, with her "Tween Beginner I" lessons had a lot more complicated items to master than Rooster with her "Beginner I" course. I pointed out that she had to do things completely on her own while her sister had to just do them "with help." Horse had to swim a certain way along the whole length of the pool whereas her sister had to do the same thing for a half length.

Suddenly, Horse stopped looking upset. She cheered up, actually. We talked about how older kidlets have more requirements than the younger kidlets do, and that we cannot compare how quickly each child masters the necessary skill set to advance.

The failure today was not that Horse had, for the second time running, been unable to master certain skills. In fact, she had improved in several areas from the last time she had taken that course. The failure came in when she tried to compare herself to someone else who was being held to a different standard.

Isn't that what we all do sometimes? We try to measure and judge ourselves based on other people's standards, and we find ourselves lacking. We see others who have better careers, better social skills, better clothes, better educations, better health, and so on and so forth. We see other mothers who can juggle both career and running their households and wonder why as a stay-at-home mom we can't even find a clean outfit for our kidlet to wear in the morning. We see people who do whatever it takes to become the class parent while we try to avoid eye contact when it is time for volunteers. We see families who can afford to sign all five of their kidlets up for multiple activities apiece outside of the home while we struggle to scrape together the money for one activity for one kidlet. We see other people's kidlets who are reading chapter books at age four when our seven-year-old struggles to read on a first grade level. We see people who have a zillion friends they manage to catch up with on a daily basis when we can barely manage to touch base with a couple of people every week or two. We hear how other kidlets have a jillion playdates and parties to attend every weekend while our kidlets are lucky to meet up with friends once a month. We do not see how they measure based on their standards, only how we see ourselves compared to them. Is it any wonder we feel like failures sometimes?

As a parent of multiple kidlets, I can admit it is not always easy to raise each kidlet based on his or her own standard, but I try. I wonder sometimes why I find it so difficult to treat myself the same way. I am not anyone else, so why do I compare myself to others, especially when it is to find myself lacking?

Just like Horse relaxed when she realized she had different requirements than Rooster, I, too, can relax when I finally stop looking at others who appear to be doing things much better or differently than I do. I am in competition with no one except for myself, so it's technically impossible to lose. I love those kind of odds.