I took the girls to swimming lessons last night. The first time I had attended since the new session began.

Many times I wondered if my fear of my six year old drowning would ever go away.

Have they (the panel of celebrity/former Olympic champion judges who determine whether kids pass or fail from one level to the next) moved Ellie up the pool ladder too quickly?

I often felt as though I would need to hop over the metal waiting area fence and dive in to save her. How useless I would have been is irrelevant, I wasn’t going to let her sink without trying to help.

Each time she swam a length toward the ten foot depth I would discretely slip off my shoes and get ready to hurl myself onto the deck. Thankfully, that never happened.

Watching two kids in lanes five and two, two different age groups, two very different skill levels, once again, I saw two personalities, each wonderful in their own way.

Ellie with her I-can-do-it-I’d-rather-drown-than-have-my-mom-jump-in attitude made me smile.

Hanna cautiously glides through the centre of her lane, sipping martinis while floating on her back.

I can hear Ellie’s laboured breathing as I gear up for my rescue attempt.

Hanna is as quiet as a mouse. Not a swimming mouse. I suspect that would involve a lot of squealing.

Ellie put on flippers for a portion of her lesson. I worried they would weigh her down.

Hanna with flippers looked like a teenager listening to an ipod, chewing gum and ignoring the world around her.

Ellie’s coach said something to her at the end of a length which made her smile and blush.

Hanna’s teacher said something to her. I think she was asking what song she was listening to.

Ellie zig-zags.

Hanna is careful never to swim outside the lines.

One struggles but endures.

One finds it breezy but is uninspired.

One is determined.

One is cautious.

One swallows water.

One has remained mostly dry.

One is a risk taker.

One follows the pack.

One chews up the water and spits it out.

One is allergic to chlorine.

Both are better swimmers than their Mom will ever be.

On the way home, I remembered I had an emergency pack of gummy bears tucked in the glove box as a special treat. It was the perfect time to celebrate.

Ellie removed all the heads from each of her four assigned gummy bears and replaced them onto other bear’s bodies to create a new taste sensation that would take her the entire ride home to finish savouring.

Hanna balled hers together and swallowed them whole.

Huh.