It was not what I expected.
After all, my daughter loves her bath time. She can't get enough of splashing, kicking, and playing with the sprayer. Water flies everywhere, Daddy gets soaked, and the bathroom is full of giggles and laughter. She's even tried to put her face under the water and blow bubbles a few times.
Unfortunately, this was not the child who went with me to her first swim lesson on Tuesday.
The child who went with me clutched at my neck like a cat in the bathtub.
From her first toe in the pool, she began uttering a gutteral moan that eventually got louder and louder as the longest 30 minutes of my life progressed.
I thought this would be a good experience for her. After all, isn't it a smart idea to start 'em young? I was introduced to the concept of swimming much too late in life, and to this day, I would probably rather have a root canal than get in a pool. Ok, maybe not a root canal. But if I never got in a pool again, I wouldn't feel that I'd missed out on anything.
At least she seemed to make a new friend.
Always the social butterfly, my sweet baby girl walked right up to a cute little boy - who was about a month younger than her, but the same physical size - and shoved him in the chest. He didn't seem to mind, though. He let her hold his hand.
He also shared his toy boat with her in the pool, almost as if to say, "It's ok. If I can do this swimming thing, so can you."
Her favorite part of the evening seemed to be getting out of the pool and going home. I'm sure she was thinking how glad she was that it was all over and she would never have to do THAT again.
Little does she know... she gets to do it again on Thursday.
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