Ego Overboard

November 7, 2010

in Mommy-ville Detour

So, I have a bit of a confession to make.  

It started off innocently enough.  All summer long, the Little Man and I went to Mommy&Me swim class.  We played, learned how to kick, and blew bubbles at one another.  Or rather, I blew bubbles and he looked at me like I was crazy.

Whatever.  We had a blast.

The Little Man may not have learned how to do a proper flutter kick.  Or, you know, float.  But he has one awesome Breast-Stroke Kick.  Without the Breast-Stroke.  Which, at 10 months of age?  I am certain is just another marker of his absolute Genius.

So when I learned that swim lessons would be continuing for a fall session?  I signed us right up!  Who doesn’t want another 5 weeks of not having to figure out yet another age appropriate activity twice a week fun in the water?

We showed up for our SIXTH “Day One” experienced old pro’s.  The Little Man practically jumped into the water (or would have if he’d known how to stand unassisted first), and I finally figured out how to pull the damn underwire out of my bathing suit.  (Seriously – Miracle Suit, WHY??? It doesn’t seem to have made a difference.  Unless you count the not stabbing me part.)

We knew exactly what to expect.  There would be 4-5 other Mommies/Daddies hanging out pool-side, still trying to figure out how to keep their kid from figuring out just quite yet that they HATE the water, while simultaneously endeavoring to keep their cover-up/giant T-shirts on until the last second possible.  And possibly beyond that.  There would be yet another new instructor.  Perhaps one who had even  taught a class or two before.  There would be singing, games, and hula hoops.  And after thirty minutes in the water, everyone would straggle out too exhausted to care if the entire Y saw how far up their butt last year’s swimsuit had ridden.

And that is exactly what happened.  Minus the singing, games, hula hoops, and giant T-Shirts.

Sure, we had yet another new instructor.  Although this was not her first time teaching class.  Oh no – we got her entire life AND career history even before she taught the newbies how to safely get into the pool with their child.  If I remember correctly, she’s a former Drill-Seargant from Florida who’s come north to whip her grandkids and everyone else into shape.  Not only was she prepared to be our swim instructor, but also our life instructor.  She had an answer for Everything.  Regardless of whether you wanted to hear how chubby your son was or not.

Games?  Singing?  That was for the kiddie pool.  I mean, sure, she brought out those big  floating noodles.  The ones I used to delight in beating lovingly tapping my brother upside the head with.  But they were to go between our legs.  For when we went into the DEEP END.  WITH OUR INFANTS.

(Have I mentioned that I CAN’T SWIM??)

So there I was, straddling two noodles with a flotation-belt wrapped around my waist in the deep end, clutching my child to my chest while he happily ate the noodles.  Sure, I could have held him out in front of me to act as a propeller.  Except every time I put more than a few inches between us?  We sank.  Like two people who can’t swim and have been dropped into the deep end of the pool.

As I bobbed up and down like a dead jelly-fish in the wake of our instructor, I took the opportunity to assess the rest of the Mommies in class.  There was the former lifeguard casually teaching her child how to do the crawl stroke, the athletically fit mother teaching her child how to blow bubbles, and the mother of the six-month old.  Who was posing for pictures.  With her Six-Month-Old.  IN A BIKINI.

To review:  Two athletically fit mommies.  One auditioner for the next swimsuit edition of Sports Illustrated.  And me.  In my old bathing suit.  The one stuffed in the back of the drawer for days when I’ve forgone my fat jeans for sweats.

Also?  I suddenly couldn’t remember the last time I’d shaved my legs.

This??  Is NOT how swim class is supposed to go.  Where were the games?  The songs?  The fugly mommies???

Which is when I realized two things:
1.  I was the fugly mommy this time around.
2.  Someone had better start teaching the Little Man or I how to swim.  Otherwise, neither of us was making it back to the shallow end of the pool.


Bella @ If This is Motherhood December 3, 2010 at 1:55 am

LMAO. Great Post!

jss November 22, 2010 at 5:50 pm

Dying. Dy-ing. And this my friend, is why I won't get in a swimsuit around anyone other than family.

Accidental Baby Maker November 8, 2010 at 6:20 pm

OMG … you literally had me peeing my pants with laughter…. me …. too afraid to ever even think of joining a swim class for every single reason you mentioned…. YOU ROCK!!!

and to the mom with the 6 month old … IN A BIKINI!!!!! for crying out loud @(#*$& so glad I have a boy!!!

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