This past week I finally got my act together and signed-up the entire family for swim lessons. I was talking to a colleague at work and she asked me, “Why do you all need to go?” I had a fun time explaining to her that there was no way I would be taking two little kids to a pool and wriggling them both in and out of wet bathing suits and slicked up with sunscreen like little buttered piglets. By myself. Plus the class for Nate is a parent/tot class.
Jacob’s “puppies” have already taught him how to hold his breath and “swim” in the bathtub. We are clearly overdue for these lessons.
So I was telling Jakey that we’ll be going on Saturdays and he began peppering me excitedly with questions. Will it be cold? Will they have a diving board? Will I watch him? Then he started telling me about all of the twirls and somersaults he is already able to do underwater. There were a lot of hand gestures and floor reenactments. Then he tells me, “And Mom, Mom. I tiptoe across the water.”
“Are you telling me you walk on water?”
“No, no. I tiptoe. TIPtoe.”