Self Consciousness: The Early Years

Tonight, E started his first-ever swim team.

The schedule had me tired at registration: Three nights per week, from 7:30 to 8:30 p.m. and meets on Thursdays at 6.

He's five. And, while I don't want to push him, the exercise, camaraderie, teamwork and individual effort are good things to start instilling. An opportunity to give him a taste of success, commitment and follow through and the heartbreak of defeat. Unlike T-Ball, not everyone will win.

Tonight was the first practice. Kids ranged in age from 5 - 13. There were relaxed faces of veterans (one girl was starting her fourth summer swim team), excited looks from eager, unsuspecting ones and looks of discomfort from some, including my little guy who stood in line for the pool with his hand squarely covering his tummy tube.

I called him over and asked him what was wrong, why was he covering his tube.

"Because I don't like having it, Mommy."

Wow.

This is big. Bigger than first-time swim team.

He's had his G-Tube since he can remember and was never bothered by it. He thought it was cool when Mommy, Daddy or Gramma Kathy had to come to school to give him a drink. Now, at 5, it's a cause for concern, embarrassment, anxiety.

"Honey, there's nothing wrong with you having a tube. It's just something that makes you different, and it's perfectly okay for you to be different. That's what makes us special."

"I wish you would have brought my swim shirt." He said, his head drooping.

I have to admit; I wasn't prepared for this. Not now. Not this soon. I mumbled something about him being okay and that he would have a great practice and encouraged him to scoot along to his lane.

He was great during practice and perked up a little.

His freestyle has improved a lot over the recent months and Coach Sean worked with the under sixers on their glide into the back stroke. There was a lot of "Go... Go... Go... Keep moving... Keep moving... Good job!... Good job!" echoing throughout the swim school and I could only help but be a little sad. Nostalgic for the time when things just were and there wasn't a value or judgment placed on being different.

The hour of practice went by fast and we found ourselves cleaning him up in the common area.

"Can we go into one of the locker rooms to dress, Mommy?"

"Why sweetie?"

"I don't want anyone to see my tube."

This time, I was a little more prepared.

"E, your tube is fine. Did you know that I actually think that having a tube is pretty cool?"

"Why, Mommy?"

"Because you can drink water faster than anyone I know! And when you do it? It goes straight into your tummy! While everyone else's drink has to go in their mouths, down their throats, through the esophagus and then into the tummy. With you, it's a straight shot!"

"Oh."

"So, what are the names of some of your swim team friends?" An attempt at diversion.

"I don't know."

"Maybe next time you can ask one of them their names."

"I don't want to Mommy."

"Okay. Let's get dressed and get you home. It's 8:30 and it's late."

He became enamored with the coaches and their process of covering the pool lanes and closing down shop. I struggled a bit to pull him away and sweep him away into the night and home to sweet dreams.

We walked to the car.

"Mommy?"

"Yes, honey?"

"I can drink really fast. Faster than anyone because I have a tube."

"That's right, baby. Faster than anyone else."

To be continued...