Despite the fact that we were both sick most of the week, Punky and I felt well enough to make that first swimming class Saturday. It went as I expected. She seemed to really enjoy it so I guess we'll continue going for the next nine weeks.
The class was held in a therapy pool with ninety degree water. I watched her face as I carried her down the steps and into the nice, warm pool. She was smiling ear to ear. She quickly took to splashing just like she does in the bath and giggled as she soaked my face and hair.
The instructor is more like an advisor...only there to answer questions and assist if needed. So it's basically just an hour of pool playtime with balls and other available toys and that's fine with me. Punky's only sixteen months and that was her first time in a pool. There will be plenty of time for real swim lessons; now it's great to just get her used to the water and how her body reacts to it.
Everything was going smoothly...until I dropped her face first into the water. I stood her up on the steps of the pool and she slipped right out of my hands. That baby soft skin is darn slippery when wet. She went under for a second until I was able to get a good grip and pull her out. A few coughs were followed by a minute of crying...and a few dirty looks for mama. I felt terrible but thankfully she got over it and we were able to enjoy the rest of the hour.
And I'm happy to report we made it through without a poop incident. Punky usually goes like clockwork, and the class falls during her morning poop window. I wasn't looking forward to peeling a wet bathing suit and dirty diaper off a shivering baby on a bench in a locker room. I know, I'm speaking too soon. There are nine more weeks to go; I'm sure she'll get me sooner or later. And she owes me one after nearly drowning her.
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