Baby, Parenting

Just Keep Swimming

I haven’t blogged in a WHILE. It feels like ages if i’m honest. Things have just kept cropping up, been busy and i’ve started weaning William, and that makes mealtimes/breakfast/nappy changing time that little bit longer – I will be doing a blog post about my experiences of weaning so far shortly so watch this space for that one – it involves a choking incident which I am still struggling to get over..

ANYWAYS.

I thought i’d do a blog post about something me and the little (well he’s not so little now – he’s 24 weeks and weighs 19lbs 11oz my little porky sausage) man get up to every week. And to be honest, me as an individual doesn’t really enjoy that much. SWIMMING.

It’s not that I dislike swimming, i’m just actually really shite at swimming. Everytime we go abroad, I always have to get hubby to hold my hand the first few times we go in the pool and I NEVER go to a point where I can’t feel the floor. You should see me in the actual sea. I’m like a crazed lunatic digging my toes into the sand,but then the thought of some weird sea creature biting my toes gets in my head so I just sort of doggy paddle in the water trying to look cool in my bikini from 3 years ago while all these ultra cool hip women who are all size 8’s just smoothly swim past me, wearing Armani sunglasses and a waterproof obligatory Michael Kors watch their boyfriends with a 53 Plate audi bought them for christmas the previous year, that they instagrammed with the caption “the boy did good”. 

Anyway, I digress. Because of how RIDICULOUS I am and have been in the past (i’m sure I have been rescued from a swimming lesson while I was at secondary school by my P.E teacher as I had a little panic attack – not embarassing at all I assure you. I think after that I was on my “period” for approximately 8 years, and never did swimming at school ever again. MEGA LOLZ.) I want William to be comfortable in the water, and be a good swimmer, not just for the holidays I hope we are going to be going on in the future (nudge nudge Norms – Cyprus????) But also for safety. I want him to be competent and able to get himself out of trouble if the awful circumstance ever occurred. 

So I take him every Tuesday with my bezzie Laura and her little girl Chloe. Its lessons, and I use that term very loosely. I mean the instructor isnt teaching him butterfly stroke, And how to do a forward roll turn with a backflip from a 13ft diving board, I mean he’s only just learnt that he has feet for goodness sake. But it’s things like throwing a ball in the water and us holding the babies and encouraging them to try catch the ball with their hands, and encourage them to kick their feet and legs, holding on to the sides and moving along, lots of singing and woggle use. (Anyone who doesnt know what a woggle is, its basically a massive sponge like thing that floats, and its like 6ft long. Google it. Hours of fun.)

Then there is also the SUBMERSION. Well, I was more nervous about that I think than the prospect of people seeing my post-baby body in my Sainsbury’s swimming cozzie. I mean what happened if he DROWNED?? (Obviously he wont – I have hold of him the whole time.) He always looks mega shocked and very taken aback at whats just happened. He also looks at me like a piece of shit on his shoe, that he cant actually believe that I have just done that to him. But it is literally for a split second,and to be fair it makes it lots easier at bath time washing his face, as he gets used to his face being wet. He just hates his ears being in the water, which I think most people do. 

One thing I wasn’t ready for was the amount of CRAP you have to take for one 30 minute swimming lesson/”lesson”. I mean. It’s ridiculous. You have to take a fair amount of shit with you out and about everyday anyway, but going swimming is on a whole new level!! Here’s just a little list of all the crap I take with me every week:

  • Swimming costume for me
  • Swimming costume for William
  • Towel for me
  • Towel for William
  • Pants etc for me
  • Change of clothes for William (I usually take him in his PJ’s then get him changed into new clothes afterwards)
  • Spare clothes in case he sick/shits/pisses on previous set
  • Moisturiser/baby oil for his skin as he gets dry skin after swimming
  • Nappies
  • Disposable swimming nappies
  • Nappy bags
  • Baby Wipes
  • Bum Cream
  • Dummies
  • Teething Gel
  • Milk
  • Muslin cloths/bibs
  • Spare milk in case he is mega hungry
  • Plastic fucking bag for all the bleach smelling wet shit
  • Change for bloody lockers because of course they couldnt possibly be free could they (imaginary eye roll)

I mean…..seriously. So all that shit is crammed into a bag, plus you have your usual changing bag, when you walk in the receptionist probably shits hersef that you are staying for 2 weeks and are going to ask her how she likes her eggs in the morning. It really is THAT much. Plus all the other shit like Calpol “just in case” etc etc – my life is now just carrying crap around in a 15 tonne bag “just in case”. 

But it really is so funny to see William in the water, interacting with the other babies, and me, its nice because it’s something we can do together, just the 2 of us, and he has to put all his trust in me, which is a nice feeling. It’s a really good bonding time for us. 

However I do look like a shitty mum because I literally have NO IDEA what half the songs are, something about a monkey swinging in a tree and a crocodile coming…?? Also using said woggle further up in the post as a horse, literally straddling this bloody 6ft long sponge sausage jumping around as if you’re on a horse…its very degrading. As if having your fadge out with half of the local hospital (in which you work at) coming and eyeing it up isn’t bad enough. You then straddle and jump about on a 6ft piece of sponge. Getting off the thing is the worst. Whilst holding a beast of a baby. Needless to say, my street cred (if I had any) is literally being sloshed away with baby piss and spit down the local council’s drain. 

Also, getting dressed and dried afterwards is quite a stressful experience. You are there with a 56 year old beach towel that your grandma once used in the Cold War, wrapped around you which keeps sliding off, trying to wrestle a slippery chlorine-smelling baby out of a little swimsuit which has gone skin tight onto his little sausage rolls, sometimes not on a baby changing table, because there are like the smallest amount of changing rooms with baby changing facilities, and trying not to drop water on them, they are cold, tired and more often than not hungry (well mine is), so they usually KICK OFF. And I don’t mean a few little cries that can be subsided with a few raspberries on the belly or a tickle under the chin. I mean like a full on, screaming, coughing, kicking MELT DOWN. As if the end of the world is nigh.  So there’s always that thought looming over you as you exit the pool, trying to walk fast (because you can’t run in a swimming pool can you) because your baby is cold and because you don’t want to see someone you know and for them to see your cellulite, that you blame having on being pregnant when really you had it before.

But all this aside, the endless baggage, the stressful change afterwards, the dry skin and the stinky washing, swimming is so much fun! It really really is, and I would DEFFO recommend that if you have a little one, and you are able to then take them. 

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