This summer I made a commitment to myself: I would teach my triplets how to swim and how to ride bikes.
I quickly realized that doing these things as triplets comes with a very important component— peer pressure—which can be both an advantage and disadvantage.
Case in point: To learn how to ride bikes, I gave them training wheels for a week, and when we took them off, one triplet figured it out in record time and zipped right off. His brother and sister were motivated to keep trying, getting back up and trying again, and again, and again, to keep up with him. Without the built-in motivation, they may have given up much more easily. But within a week, I’d accomplished my goal: all three triplets were riding confidently.
Time for part two: swimming lessons. I was all gung-ho after my bike success, but this time, the peer pressure worked against me.
To begin, I arranged a private swimming lesson just for my two triplet boys, because more than two kids was too much for the teacher to handle.
We got to the pool and both boys approached the water. The first bravely stepped in and started getting comfortable, and I thought to myself, “Yes! Here we go.”
But then his brother strolled over, dipped in a toe, declared, “It’s too cold,” and immediately wrapped himself back in his towel.
Well, here’s the kicker: His brother, who was already in the water, suddenly looked around and reconsidered. “Maybe it IS too cold,” he thought to himself, and started backing out of the water.
Clearly, peer pressure is not just for teenagers!
I tried everything:
“If you do the swimming lesson, I’ll get you ice cream!”
No movement.
“If you do the swimming lesson, we’ll go to the toy store afterwards and you can choose any toy under $10!”
Still nothing.
Why do they have to be so stubborn?!
I knew I had to be careful and gentle, because that’s the only way to win them over.
So I tried leaving. Perhaps I’m the distraction, I thought, and if it’s just them and the swimming teacher, they’ll be willing to engage. I said goodbye, told them I’d pick them up after the lesson, and watched from out of sight as the teacher tried to coax them for 10 minutes.
Nothing doing.
So I came back and tried to convince them that it really wasn’t cold. I even tried splashing a little water on my towel-wrapped protester to show him it’s no big deal.
Well, that was a really bad idea!
He responded by marching over, smacking me several times, and flinging his goggles at my head.
Ah, fatherhood … that sacred institution where you pay $93 an hour for the privilege of being assaulted by a child in swim trunks …
Surprisingly, even at just 7 years old, this boy can inflict real pain!
By the end, I was frustrated, annoyed and downright upset. I had invested time, effort, and money, and it had all been for naught.
But as I mulled over it in the coming days, I realized this experience taught me some valuable lessons—three in fact.
Lesson #1: Don’t let someone else’s fear decide your limits. The first triplet was doing fine until his brother said, “Nope, it’s too cold.” Sound familiar? How often do we stop trying just because someone else is afraid? As Jews, especially in the current climate, we need to be trailblazers, lamplighters, leaders—strong and unaffected by those around us.
Lesson #2: Motivation has to come from within. I threw every bribe in the parenting playbook at them: sugar, toys, the promise of glory … but nothing worked. The reality is, external incentives are limited in their effectiveness. Real change has to come from within. My kids didn’t want to swim, period. G-d sets the stage for our growth, but He doesn’t shove us into the water. We have to jump ourselves. As much as we’d like it, nobody else can fix our problems, get us on that schedule we’ve been trying to stick to for months, or go to the gym for us. Change comes from within, and the only person who can change you is you.
Lesson #3: Love isn’t conditional. Despite the protest, the bribery failures, and the physical assault, I of course still love my boys to bits. Now imagine, if that’s how I feel—with my very limited, human patience—just imagine G-d’s love and patience for us. We resist, we make excuses, sometimes we even “hit back” when He nudges us toward growth. But His love doesn’t wane.
So, maybe my boys didn’t learn to swim that day. But these lessons are invaluable. And we’ll keep trying until they are ready, and I have no doubt they’ll soon be swimming like fish.