Ms. Kimmy comes to our house every Wednesday morning to teach the boys how to swim. They scream and cry their way through the 30-minute lesson while I hold back tears (sometimes without success). It’s painful to see my children, who I’d give my own life for, experience so much fear and resistance: quivering lips, shaking arms, anxiety poops, fingers that reach out and grip the closest adult, eyes searching our home for mom, dad, …