My daughter was never into the water. Even has a newborn, she would scream as soon as I set her into the little tub on the kitchen sink. Some people just have an aversion to getting wet. I've learned to respect that. She at least trusted me enough as a youngster to teach her how to float on her back. I know if she needed to, she can float until help arrives.
My son is a whole different book. We nicknamed him "Tadpole" when he was an infant. He never could get enough of the cool, wet stuff. His lips would be blue and still he would insist that the bath go on (and on and on and on). So, as soon as he celebrated his first birthday, we took the plunge and started swim lessons. All told, he has had about 6 months of lessons over a period of 2 years. Later this summer, he should graduate to the next level of swimming without mommy in the pool. He loves it and looks forward to it every week.
Yesterday, we had our first scare. Well, it was scary for me, anyway. Little R was getting ready to jump into the water. I was waiting for him about 18 inches from the wall, ready to catch him. I had just given him the signal that I was ready, that he could jump, and he lost his footing. Now, jumping into the water is nothing new to him. As a matter of fact, it's his favorite thing to do. But he's always had the safety of Mom's arms to land in. He had the common sense to at least try to get out away from the wall (or his guardian angel pushed him). He went into the water about 12 inches from me. He went under the water. I scrambled to get to him, my heart stopped. I absolutely hate how you move in slow motion in the water. I got to him and he was already kicking and scooping his way to the surface. I reached out to him and he was twisting his body to swim back to the wall. When he was safely back in my arms he smiled at me and said in a super-happy voice, "Swim underwater!"
Yes Baby, you did. :)