Yesterday my son had his first swimming lesson – quite an
accomplishment for a 10-month old “kid.” My husband took him to a Parent/Child
class at the local YMCA, and he was more nervous than my son was.
Apparently, the most difficult part was when he had to put
Jude under the water for three whole seconds. Three whole seconds – a lifetime
in my husband’s eyes. Jude was a trouper, though, and only got irritated about
it on the third try. During the 30 minute lesson, he enjoyed songs, splashing,
“jumping” off the side, learning to crawl out, and he almost fell asleep while
learning to float on his back.
My husband took him to the class because I am not a swimmer.
The odd thing is, I used to swim. I even have an Advanced Beginner swim badge
from when I was 8. I remember doing “real” swimming across the length of our
huge public pool, turning underwater like I was in the Olympics, then crossing
the whole length again. The instructor even complimented my form, which I knew was
good because I was a dancer.
Then one summer as a teenager I tried to learn how to dive,
and for some reason I wore nose plugs. That was the beginning of the end. When
I tried to swim years later, I had forgotten how to go underwater without
holding my nose. I tried, but I always ended up with a noseful of water. People
are incredulous when I tell them this. “Isn’t swimming like riding a bike?”
they ask. I thought so, but apparently it’s not true.
So, Jude is destined to have a mom who will get in the water,
will swim the backstroke and sidestroke, but will always embarrassingly hold
her nose to go under. Sorry, Jude. But I’m sure it won’t be the only time in
your life I’ll embarrass you!
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