Michaela Phelps

Sam and Kate finished their swim lessons last night, and it was also the end of Non-Competitive swim team for Sam this year. (So many things are ending right now!) They both passed their levels with flying colors. I would say Sam passed pretty easily, which I guess is bragging, but I'm happy to do it. Plus, that's really what this blog is all about anyway. Bragging.

Passing Level 1 is not much to brag about, and I'm pretty sure Kate passed the first day.  But I am amazed by how much she is willing to do in the water. She's entered that scary stage where she really isn't afraid of the water, but can't swim yet either, so we'll really have to watch her this summer. In addition to jumping in off the edge and off the diving board (in a life jacket), she was also doing a pretty good looking backstroke with the jacket on too. I was amazed. I never know what to expect out of a 3 year old, but this seems pretty good.

When we were leaving, Kate went over to hug her very cute teacher Emily, and Emily told her how proud she was of her. I told she and Nick that Kate thinks that she is ready to do swim team with Sam, and Emily responded, "I wouldn't put it past her. I'm going to start calling her Michaela Phelps." I laughed of course, and removed my child from their teacher-hot-tub-private-time. I know she was joking, but in the back of my head, I'm thinking, "Does that mean she's exceptional? Could she really be an olympic swimmer? Should I force her to swim every day for the rest of her life?" Wow, we suburban moms really need to calm down and stop drinking the juice. I'll settle for water safety for now, I think.