My boyfriend and I are taking baby swimming classes with our son. It was an exciting prospect for us because we saw a video on youtube about a class parents were taking where they throw their babies around the pool and they can speed off swimming like little Olympic pros, I kid you not. Ambitious as we are, we signed up for class at the local YMCA and armed our babe with these awesome bright orange swim briefs a couple sizes too small for him so that the poop doesn’t escape from his drawers during swim time.

I’m not one to really adhere to any sort of fashion climate in the family pool. I actually have the black version of the swimsuit that’s on the new Moby album cover. That’s what I wear. Or I wear a halter bikini top and high waisted boy shorts. Very chic. I used to be really self-conscious about my body, but whatever, kiddie pool time isn’t the swimsuit competition. It’s about getting your kid to be able to breath underwater and float on his back.

Or is it? When we asked our instructor when we’d be able to let our son go in the pool, she looked at us in horror. Um, whoops. Dude, but if that’s the case, isn’t “swim class” a misnomer? I’ve read all about babies, and I’m pretty sure they’ve got the swim instinct in them up until a certain age. Give me the instructor who knows how to teach me about self-rescue and floating up!!! Seriously, watch that video.

This entry was posted on Friday, March 7th, 2008 at 3:45 am and is filed under Parenting. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.