above: nestled amidst a lot of car repair shops and a pirate place??
above: unassuming location, right?
above: watching a lesson take place before ours
above: L's future swim diaper!
above: good little listener
above: floating on his back to old mcdonald had a farm
below: working his way to the side of the pool
L's 1st REAL swim lesson was wednesday. I emphasize real because this is my 2nd pass at getting him lessons. Our 1st go at swim lessons involved a cute high school swimmer who stared at us blankly, then commanded baby to blow bubbles and when that didn't work (L was looking in the sky for bubbles and inhaling/drinking water, not blowing out, he's a BABY), she started singing "the wheels on the bus", butchering the lyrics (i'm a pro, thanks to the library) and kind of just floundered from there, resulting in us moms trying to think of things to do with baby.
I'm all for fun in the pool, but I can do that at home for free, and well, better. I'm grateful for this little bump in L's road to swimming in the olympics, ;-) because it made me realize I want only the best lessons out there for him. And that means true, serious instruction in the water. No matter the cost or challenge.
Sure, I want him to be a master butterflyer, but first, i want him to survive a haphazard plunge in the pool. Not that mommy EVER intends to let that happen, but am erring on the side of caution with ALL things pertaining to L.
There are swim classes that involve tossing baby in and keeping mommy out (of the water). And they're SO successful. But as a non-CIO mommy, I can't stomach the thought myself. Call me a bleeding heart mommy, I'm used to it. ;-) Next best thing? Well...
I expressed my disappointment with the meh lessons I endured for two days above to a fellow mommy friend (THANK YOU LEAH) and she immediately recommended the British Swim School. She'd heard great things about it. I checked out there website, went out on a limb and registered L right there online like the true impulse buyer i am.
Then, during one of L's middle of the night wake-ups I had a "brilliant" idea. How about we go check the place out before I show up day of and find myself disappointed again.
So we did, day before father's day, with grandpa in tow too. And I think all three of us were in awe of what we saw. Happy-enough (read: not crying), confident babies with their parents in the water with them, surfacing from being submerged, flipping to their backs and getting to the side of the pool. No tears, baby bad a$$es.
But was L going to hate it? Scream bloody murder the whole time?
Wednesday rolled around. Gotta say I was grateful we went & checked the place out. It's nestled in a place you'd never expect to find a pool. It was dumping rain. L hadn't pooped in two days. I suddenly understood their double diaper requirement.
We got there, and no one told us what to do, other than a piece of paper on a counter I accidentally looked at. I followed the paper's alice in wonderland-like instructions and a few minutes later we were in the water with our instructor, stephanie (stephanie's are awesome swimmers, i felt good that that was her name).
she rapid fired directives, and i clumsily followed along, connecting the dots almost instantly. we were laying the foundation for L to eventually kick to the top, flip on his back and get to the side through fun, repetitive tasks. The water was warm, there was no sun in L's eyes and he didn't freak when i put him on his back, like he usually did. in no time the lesson was over and i'm excited to return. i think he's a natural. and i think in a few months, he's going to be a confident little dude in the pool.
mommy is happy.