I took the boy swimming today. We haven’t been since he went on holiday last year. We are going away with hubs’ parents this year and whilst he’ll be under constant supervision in the pool, we’d like him to have recent experience of being in water.
As it’s the summer holidays there are plenty of sessions on and after checking the timetable this morning I thought I’d strike whilst the iron is hot.
To my relief as I was checking said timetable the boy did a big poo, meaning i only had to worry about the boy floating in the pool…
I told the boy we were going swimming and he seemed excited. So I’m not sure why, when it came to actually leaving the house he threw an epic tantrum. Crying, folding his arms, throwing himself on the floor. The works. I remained calm. But in these situations ‘What the fuck is wrong now?!’ Is never far from the tip of my tongue. After coaxing him out of the house I carried him to the car still sobbing. I have no idea why he was crying.
We got to the pool and headed to the (slightly grotty) changing room. There were two old ladies getting changed after their swim who told me Will had ‘such an angelic face’ ha! I wonder what they’d have said if they’d seen him 15 minutes earlier. As the ladies were changing he stared at them. I broke out into a cold sweat. This could go one of two ways. 1: he’ll point at their bodies and shout ‘yuk’ as he does to me on a now daily basis. Or 2: he’ll try and ‘tickle’ them which basically involves grabbing body parts and laughing hysterically. Thank god I had my swimsuit on under my clothes! If there was an Olympic medal for speed changing, I’d have won the gold.
We did the walk of humiliation past EVERYONE to get to the pool. The boy was unsure to start with but when he got onto the water enjoyed shouting ‘splash!’ at the top of his lungs, pointing at my boobs and shouting ‘yuk!’ And pulling the front of my swimsuit down. I also got kicked in the fanny repeatedly.
I definitely helicoptered in the pool but I guess when the alternative is him drowning, helicoptering is important. His head went under once, and whilst he wasn’t happy about it it went down better than I expected. Lessons have now been booked on a Daddy can share the ‘fun’.
I couldn’t help but think parenting is a lot like this swimming experience. Sometimes you feel out of your depth, sometimes you can barely keep your head above the water. Sometimes no matter how hard you try, it feels like a constant kick in the fanny. But one day, you’ll not only be floating, you’ll be swimming.
In other news:
The boy is talking more and more, but every now and again will shout something that sounds a lot like ‘dick’.
I have given up on a tidy house. The boy is the anti-tidy.
I shall attempt to make a cake with the boy later, something I may very well regret…