Vermont Winter Weekend Part 2

"No, No, No!” Matthew greeted the notion of swimming with Sarah and I. He squirms while I put on his bathing suit and shirt.

“I’m staying home,” he says planting his (bare) feet firmly on the ground while I put on our jackets.

“Will you come to keep us company?” I ask him.

“I don’t like swimming.”

“Suit yourself,” I shrug. For a moment I worry that he will call my bluff of leaving without him, but in the end he follows us out the door.

“I'll just watch," he concedes.

At the pool there are windows peeking out to the night sky and a number of toys floating in the water. I buckle Matt in a swim vest and he sits on the edge of the pool tossing a ball back and forth with us. A little while later he moves to the top stair to sit and play with a plastic airplane.

“Want to come for a little swim,” I coax holding my arms open. He grabs a hold of me so tightly that my skin under his fingers starts to turn white. Not letting go I guide him to the direction of Sarah who grabs hold of him before I let go. It’s no wonder he doesn’t like to swim. He lacks the natural instinct to stay afloat. When I loosen my hold he simply accepts the fact he is sinking, flailing his arms and legs in such a way that is much harder than swimming.

Matthew enjoyed the rest of the time in the pool, just as long as he was holding on to the side or in the arms or Sarah and I. We stayed in the water until I noticed that his teeth were chattering and it was time to go.



After dinner that evening he wanted to go to bed, but first wanted to make a tent to sleep in. He also felt the need to made snow angels on the white carpeted bedroom floor.

“Want to talk about trains with me?” he asked when I had settled into bed.

And then I am not sure what happened because I fell asleep first.