Harrison, Kellan, Dawson and Cole.

I haven't taught Level I Red Cross swim classes in ages -- the beginning kids -- and they do get younger and younger each year. We had 10 signed up, so Joe -- the other instructor -- and I decided to split them into high and low skill levels, with me gamely offering to take 4 of the lower clinging and crying tots, to his 6 who needed no urging getting into the water that first day.

Only one in swim diapers, a fresh 3 years old, with the most advanced turning 4 in May. What a treat. After a few lessons, I asked the parents if they'd be interested in joining us in the water too: you can concentrate a lot more on one child if you don't have to simultaneously distract the other 3 with something to do at the wall.

The fathers were game:
The confidence levels soared. Smiles were seen.

I've got one close to independently floating already, with a nice deep water bob going too. Another who's submerging the face and opening the eyes to reach and locate the ring. And two more kicking up a storm and blowing the bubbles on the front -- essentially getting used to the float position, and figuring out how we move in the water as opposed to land.

We've got some jumping in unassisted (okay, one -- but with one almost there who just likes to hold your fingertips), and all 4 can pretty much bob/kick to the wall safely from a few yards out. Progress at the lower levels, not unlike mastering rotary breathing in Level III and realizing, "Hey, if I do this right, there's nothing keeping me from not only crossing the pool, but going beyond 25 yards because I'm not even tired or out of breath..."

In short, last night's lessons again were a joy. I just sometimes forget: when you're around a flush-cheeked little one who doesn't seem his usual energetic self, and you wake up yourself the next morning with a sore throat and active nose, it's a good reminder of the many ways the little ones share their love...