Swimming with my little 4 year old Brooklyn today, I realized more fully the job of a parent.
Children, of any age, when it comes to learning new things that require an ongoing effort that has the appearance of work, would rather have you do it for them.
A surrogate-parent, or the individual more willing to risk failure rather than acquiesce to ones fears and preferences, assumes the responsibility for those who will not.
Brooklyn wanted to play and have fun, which we did after a few laps practicing swimming, remarked she’d swim but she needed goggles, the sun was too bright and an assortment of other “reasons” why she’d rather pass on swimming before playing.
Brooklyn is so cute and precious, so her ululations don’t bother me much, and I reframe her thinking by making it seem silly that she needs this or that to simply swim. When the child is 40, reframing their excuses tends to be a bit more of a challenge, and my patience a bit more thin.