Swim classes, a mother’s own personal torture

We signed LO up for swim classes a few months ago.

I had envisioned the two of us in the pool, calmly blowing bubbles and singing cute nursery rhymes as we splashed and smiled in the water. What I didn’t envision was a screaming toddler, thrashing about and trying to claw her way out of the pool while I am practically screaming the words to “Twinkle, twinkle little star”. Unfortunately, the former only happens in dream sequences.

I find myself completely dreading swim classes. But, I do see them working. LO
Is getting better at knowing where the wall is and she knows to try to turn over if she’s in the water to lay on her back. And at least she still likes to go in the pool; she just doesn’t like the classes.

Apparently, we aren’t the only parents that this happens to. In fact, I always hear the story about my own days at baby swim lessons. It was a five day course: Monday, I cried; Tuesday, I cried; Wednesday, I cried; Thursday, my mom cried; Friday, I swam.

So I guess LO is more like me when it comes to swim classes.

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