The Swimming Lessons Chronicles

These past two weeks Cody has been taking swimming lessons at a local complex. Thanks to my mom, I have made it a priority that my children take swimming lessons, as she did with me and my siblings. But back in the day, my mom would usually drop me and my sibs off, have a private party for herself, and return to pick us up when the lessons were over. That is, if she remembered us. (now there's some stories for Flashback Friday)

Sadly times have changed, and multitudes of mothers are now subject to the torturous environment of enduring the allotted time of 45 minutes of swimming lessons. Obnoxious kids, humidity, sh-weaty

(yes I meant to write sh-weaty) unbearable heat, and wrestling a toddler, to top things off.

This is a picture of what my hair looked like, before I entered the swimming complex. Perfectly styled. Each hair in it's place, curled and then shellacked with a thick coat of ozone destroying hair spray.

Okay, maybe not so much. But you get the picture.

This is what I look like when I leave the complex. My hair is limp, and lacks the luster it once had, due to the stifling heat and humidity.

As I walk into the spectator seating area, (a.k.a. - hard as rock, back breaking bleachers) I knock over small children with my overstuffed diaper bag, filled with toys, do-dads, Gerber treats, and diapers. As I pass various mothers, we each give that, "all to knowing nod". You know, the one that says, "We feel your pain. We also had to slough ourselves and our children here to partake of this dreadful, daily event."

Once I am seated, the real fun begins. I prefer to sit at the very top of the hard as rock, back breaking bleachers, to partake of one of my favorite activities.... people watching.

Here's my kid! Through out the whole lesson, I try to calm Conner down by asking him, "Where's Cody? Where's Cody? There's Cody! Wave to Cody!" It works for 2 seconds. Desperate times, calls for desperate measures.

Here's a picture of just one of the hundreds of Gerber treats Conner managed to knock out of my hands and landing on the concrete floor.

Last week I was trying to feed him one and he flipped his hand upward, thus causing a Gerber treat to fly. It was like slow motion... and landed in the crack of the lady, and may I add, who was wearing very low shorts, sitting in front of me. She didn't even notice. There it was, a lonely star shaped, apple flavored snack, nestled in between a set of cheeks. I would have taken a picture, but there were too many witnesses. Imagine her surprise when she went to the bathroom or showered!

It seems like at every lesson, practice or game that I attend, there seems to be the same cast of characters that attend, also. One them being the wandering, intrusive child. In this case, his name is Elijah. You can hear his name being bellowed through out the facility, from his mother. "Eeeeee-li-jah! Eeeee-li-jah! Ee-li-jah, don't eat the Gerber treats off of the floor. Ee-li-jah don't the poke the nice lady's newborn baby in the eye. Ee-lijah don't throw the truck. It's not your truck!" Elijah's mother also dresses him in tights under his shorts. And they are little girl tights! I'm thinking they must be for health reasons, but I have yet to see any sort of bandages or casts. Surely his mother couldn't possibly think this was a fashion statement?

All heads turn when this, all too perfect, lady enters the spectator area. Her hair is perfect, her body is perfect and I'll bet ya she obtained this perfect body with the help of a couple of bags of silicone (if you know what I mean). She's always wearing cute, stylish clothes and matching wedges. She also has matching kids. Perfect. She makes me sick. However, I can't help but watch her try to pull the back of her shirt over the top of her pants, constantly to conceal her g's.

This lady bugs me. She saunters in, throws her stinky flip flops off and believe me.... they stink, takes a swig of her Mountain Dew, and then takes a nap. I think to myself, "Oh my word. If I can sit through 1 swimming lesson, she can too! Her back isn't breaking? She's not wrestling her un-enthused toddler? Gimme a break! Buck up lady!" (secretly I envy her)

On the second day of swimming lessons, I noticed a commotion about 20 minutes before the lesson was to end. Cody's swim teacher swam over to the other classes and instructed the other teachers to move their kids to the far end of the pool. His teacher then stepped out of the pool, talked to the manager and returned with a skimmer and a garbage can. "Did some one loose something important? Did someone just get sick in the pool?!?!?!" His teacher then put on his goggles, dove to the bottom of the pool and retrieved the mysterious item/s. The manager inspected the item/s closely then shook her head, as if she was discouraged. "Parents!" the manager yelled. "We are going to have to shut the pool down for the day. We have had a fecal emergency."

"That's just sick and wrong," I thought. Cody's swim teacher continued to dive to the bottom of the pool to retrieve the rest of the fecal remnants. That kid doesn't get paid enough.

(famous BabyRuth scene from the movie Caddyshack)

This picture shows the area of where the "fecal emergency" happened. Mid-lesson one of the kids from this class gets out of the pool and walks to the bleachers to have her mother take her to the bathroom, everyday. She must have a fiber rich diet, because the girl is as regular as Old Faithful.

On the day of the "great poop escape", she left the pool to have her mommy take her to the bathroom to go to the potty, because as in her words, "I really, really, really, really have to go poop mommy! (sniffle, sniffle) Mommy hurry, I'm going to poop in my suit!"

I'm not accusing the little girl of anything, but I'm just saying.... And hey, it happens to the best of us my little friend.

I have survived another summer of Swimming Lessons and Cody passed with flying colors! Can't wait to see what happens next season, when Conner will be walking and eating Cheerios off of the concrete floor, that do not belong to us.