The kids are on week what the heck ever of swim lessons. I go, sit like a lump on a lawn chair, and watch as my kids and probably a hundred other kids splash around in the local pool. The kids "make ice cream" and "bubble bob" and do some elaborate thing called "chicken-airplane-soldier." I occasionally say "yay!" and then wrap them in towels and march them to the van.

The whole goal of this is to get them proficient enough that I don't actually have to get wet if I don't want to. Yes, my sad, pathetic little dreams involve lounging on a blanket while the kids swim. Me relaxing, them wearing themselves out. Well, and me taking little trips into the pool to daintily tread water, so as not to disturb my colored hair. Oh, yeah, I've already got the grandma-style skirted suit. All I need is some of those giant wrap around sunglasses and I'm good to go. Maybe a drink with an umbrella in it would be good, too. Yes.

My youngest, at five and a half, has been steadfast in her dislike of getting her head wet. From her earliest infant months through the start of swim lessons this spring, she'd get in the water, but cling like a koala to the nearest grown up. Forget about getting her head wet - she'd scream and claw and have all sorts of issues. It was bad.

Last year, she was happily autonomous with her floatie arm bands - she'd toodle around the pool at exactly one foot per hour, and would scream at anyone who went faster than her. She'd bicycle her legs frantically and go nowhere. Half the time, she'd be asleep before we even got her out of the pool area.

This year, she's tall enough to keep her head above water in most of the shallow end of the pool. We also introduced goggles, and just like her siblings, we can no longer keep her head above water for more than a second at a time. The only thing missing was her willingness to propel herself forward through the water.

She has this move she calls the "seal technique" which involves kangaroo-type jumping and arms sort of gathering the water in front of her in a hugging motion. She regales anyone who will listen with the story of how she created her technique (her words, not mine) and the demonstrates.

After watching several laps of this yesterday, I convinced her to try bubble bobs - but this time with stretching herself out and kicking.

The child dropped under water, immediately began kicking, and swam halfway across the pool.

She stood up and grinned. "Woo hoo!" she yelled.

"Woo hoo!" I agreed. "You're a swimmer!"

"I'm a swimmer!" she yelled.

And then face back down in the water, she began madly paddling toward the opposite side. She must have swam 50 laps, stopping for lots of "Woo!" in between breaths.

I stood there and watched her paddle, realizing this was one of those milestones. There she goes. My final baby, swimming. It happens, just like that.

Somebody bring me a mai tai!