Bath! Bath!
Kristen’s still working on getting all the Florida pictures together (we got home on Tuesday), but I promised you all something on Henry’s first swimming class. So here it is.
I wrote earlier about my experience signing up Henry for this class, and two Saturdays ago (the day before Easter), he had his first lesson. We packed up his and my swimming stuff (trunks and towels for both of us, swim diapers for him, a camera for Kristen) and headed off to the indoor pool.
It’s located in a nearby high school, so we changed in the school’s locker room (just like old times) and walked to the pool. It was, to say the least, one of the greatest moments of Henry’s life (all 19 months of it). The pool that lay before him was the largest bathtub he had ever seen, and he broke free of my hand and started running toward it, yelling, “Bath! Bath! Water! Water!” I had to corral him so he wouldn’t go jumping into the deep end.
All the parents and kids (ranging from 18 to 36 months) then got a little safety lesson and an explanation of what would happen in the class. Henry could not have cared less. He was just trying to get into the pool, tugging on my arm, practically begging to swim. “Hold on, kiddo,” I said. “Soon, soon.” Soon to Henry is like 5 years, I think.
The waiting was over and it was time to get into the pool. So all the dads took off their shirts and prepared to enter the 83-degree water. (You’re probably saying to yourself, “That’s pretty warm.” Well, you’re wrong.)
Now, as I’m sure you’ve noticed from some of the photos on the site, I’m not in the best shape of my life (unless the shape we’re looking for is “lumpy”.) It’s also the beginning of April, so I’m ridiculously pale. Luckily, I wasn’t the only one. In fact, all the men were pale and out of shape, so I was in good company. (Great company, eh?)
So we headed into the pool. They told us that the parents should go in first and have the kid hold onto the bars of the ladder, facing the parent. Henry wanted none of this and wanted to jump in after me. He restrained himself a bit, and waited until I got in first. (Brrr!) So in I went, then I pulled him to my chest and pushed off from the side of the pool.
“Aaaaaaahhhhhh!” he screamed. I panicked! He hates it! He is scared! The water is eating him!
So I pick him up out of the water, flip him around to face me (he had wiggled so that I couldn’t see his face), and see that his screams were that of the happy kind (the best kind, naturally). Whew.
There were a couple of kids who didn’t make it through the whole class, though. One was crying nearly the whole time and his mom took him out of the water after only a couple of minutes. Another kid got bored really quickly and tried to run and play with buckets of chlorine.
The rest of the “class” (which was really just moving around in the water, kicking, blowing bubbles, jumping up and down) was full of equal happiness. As much as I’d like to say that he’s the next Michael Phelps, he wasn’t the best kid in the class as far as the kicking and strokes go. He being the youngest there probably didn’t help. But he was, by far, the one with the biggest smiles.
Even as it got a little cold and Henry was actually shivering, his teeth chattering, he did was smiling. In fact, when it was time to get out of the water, he was really, really sad (even though his lips were blue).
This all bodes well for future classes (the next of which is tomorrow) and it made our trip to Florida (read about that later) full of oceans and swimming pools. All I have to do is get a little color on my skin and get rid of some of my gut, we’ll be perfect.
