Thank you to everyone who visited and sent a card to Alyssa! I will definitely be posting updates as they appear in the local media. I'm sure this teacher never expected this kind of response to her request!
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Is it just me? or is it too hot to blog?
What it's not to hot for: any place with air conditioning; Season 4 of Monk on DVD; swim lessons for tots.
I don't know if I've mentioned that we're taking our son to a weekly swim class. We are. And this weekend, I realized that I'm one of those mothers. The kind the instructors talk about behind backs. The kind they secretly clench their teeth at. That's me.
There are two classes for the itty-bitty people at the Y; there's one for the 6-36 month set, and one for 2-5 year olds. Hmm. Overlap. I figured since my son is 28 months, and this is his first class, we'd go for the first one. Both meet at the same time anyway, and the lady at the desk told me the instructors would move the kids to the different levels as needed.
In the first two sessions, all the kids were in one big group. A dozen or so kids. Splish-splashing, kicking, singing, jumping in from the side, blah, blah.
Cut to the third class. They called off names (per the sign-up rosters) and had the kids and parents split into the two groups. We went to the grouping for 6-36mo., where the "group" consisted of our very large 2-year old and a 10-month old baby. That was it. So on the other side of the pool, the kids were splashing, kicking, laughing, singing, and jumping. On our side? No offense to 10-month olds, but they're still kind of in the blob stage. So I tried to single-bodily mimic the activity that was going on over yonder. See? This is how we kick! See? These are scoops. See? This is how we sing The Wheels on the Bus very loudly to make up for the fact that we're in such a small group that you can't really call it a group.
Anyway, my son didn't do much that day. There were no other kids nearby for him to watch and imitate. The teacher gave instructions but barely got his torso wet; hence my full-immersion strategy.
So my husband and I decided we'd stick with the big group for the next class. And we did. And it was better. But our son? Does not know how to jump. I'm not quite sure how this came to be, but he doesn't quite get the lift-both-feet-off-the-ground-at-the-same-time concept. So, when they have the kids jump in from the edge of the pool, our son steps in and holds on to us. They're encouraging the kids to jump in without any help from Mom and Dad. Other than that, I'd say the little guy is on par with the other little swimmers in the 2-5 group.
As rebels, we blended in just like any other family, til the teacher came around with the clipboard, asking for names. Shoot. She'd know we were part of the "other" group. Sure enough, when she didn't see the little guy on the list, I explained that we had been in the baby group the previous week and that he did so much better with the large group. She said nothing. But she had The Look on her face.
You know. The Who Do You Think You Are Taking Matters Into Your Own Hands look?
For the rest of class, we were determined to show how our boy was one of the big little kids.
Wow! Great kicking!
Look at you blowing bubbles!
Great job jumping in! (OK, so not really, but we will be practicing the art of The Jump this week.)
So, it's official. I'm one of those Moms. I've been branded.
Sue me.









