Thursday, July 9

Swimming

In preparation for my sprint triathlon, which is in preparation for my Hadrian's Walk, I have joined the YWCA and started swimming several times a week. I've also got a swim cap (Brand: Tyr, so that if I start turning in Olympic speeds that'll be one less bit of equipment to buy with the added bonus of a built-in corporate sponsorship). Can I just say, the swim cap has really put me over the edge. Every time I plunge forth, with my head down and in its laser-beam position (thanks, Total Immersion), I feel as though I'm sliding through the water, graceful as a dolphin, sputtering and coughing notwithstanding.

I've also partook of that most sacred parental right: Testing Your Child's Genius By Enrolling Him In Classes At A Very Young Age. That is to say, I signed us up for a Water Babies class.

I thought Ethan would be swimming laps around the other babies within seconds, seeing as every evening at bathtime he turns into a young, pre-ganja Michael Phelps. I mean, really. I've programmed taught him to begin kicking his legs furiously whenever I shout "Waterbabieswaterbabies!" Then at the end of the workout we exchange high-fives.

Much to my dismay, Ethan has partook of that most annoying offspring trick: Making Your Parents Look Like Fools In Front Of Other Adults. That is to say, he wants nothing to do with the Water Babies class. Of all the babies (ranging in age from 7 months to 3 years), he has been the most combative. I will say that this evening's class, the second, was far worse than the first. Noah and I practically performed a waterbound Cirque du Soleil to try and get him to stop crying and show off his skills, but Ethan would have none of it.

To top off the humiliation, the instructor (an older, bearded man I have come to despise, his very presence a constant reminder of my stage-parent failures) forces us to sing ring around the rosies at the beginning of class. Which basically translates into a bunch of adults awkwardly bouncing and singing a nursery rhyme (off-pitch) while our children cling to us in terror.

After 15 minutes tonight, we gave up, I did my workout in the lap pool while Noah followed Ethan around the perimeter as he gleefully pointed at the flags and swimmers. At least he looks adorable in his swimming trunks pants.

4 comments:

Dan said...

I imagine the triathlon is going to be a lot harder than the walk, so you should be well prepared.

I'm determined that I'm going to teach amy to swim this summer. She's nearly 6 now so it's about time. Unfortunately she's equally determined that she won't learn to swim.

Slamdunk said...

Yes, nothing says lets have a good workout than to start with a tribute to the bubonic plague.

It sounds like you all have loads of patience. We know that our two little ones are too disorderly for stuff like that and it would result in a failure (for me and the Mrs. mostly).

Anonymous said...

My nephew was a hockey fanatic basically since birth, but absolutely FREAKED OUT the first time he hit the ice. Maybe Ethan just needs a few more times in the pool?

Dusty @AllThingsG+D said...

Oh, I can't wait to be a parent. Whenever someone asks if we want a boy or a girl, I respond by saying, "We don't care. Just as long as it's...smart." I know they're waiting for us to say "healthy" at the end of that sentence, but in my opinion that goes without saying. And I like to be a little more specific about things. I think I'll add "dutiful performer whenever Mom and Dad want to show him/her off" to my list. Good call.

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