Swimming
In preparation for my sprint triathlon, which is in preparation for my Hadrian's Walk, I have joined the YWCA and started swimming several times a week. I've also got a swim cap (Brand: Tyr, so that if I start turning in Olympic speeds that'll be one less bit of equipment to buy with the added bonus of a built-in corporate sponsorship). Can I just say, the swim cap has really put me over the edge. Every time I plunge forth, with my head down and in its laser-beam position (thanks, Total Immersion), I feel as though I'm sliding through the water, graceful as a dolphin, sputtering and coughing notwithstanding.
I've also partook of that most sacred parental right: Testing Your Child's Genius By Enrolling Him In Classes At A Very Young Age. That is to say, I signed us up for a Water Babies class.
I thought Ethan would be swimming laps around the other babies within seconds, seeing as every evening at bathtime he turns into a young, pre-ganja Michael Phelps. I mean, really. I've programmed taught him to begin kicking his legs furiously whenever I shout "Waterbabieswaterbabies!" Then at the end of the workout we exchange high-fives.
Much to my dismay, Ethan has partook of that most annoying offspring trick: Making Your Parents Look Like Fools In Front Of Other Adults. That is to say, he wants nothing to do with the Water Babies class. Of all the babies (ranging in age from 7 months to 3 years), he has been the most combative. I will say that this evening's class, the second, was far worse than the first. Noah and I practically performed a waterbound Cirque du Soleil to try and get him to stop crying and show off his skills, but Ethan would have none of it.
To top off the humiliation, the instructor (an older, bearded man I have come to despise, his very presence a constant reminder of my stage-parent failures) forces us to sing ring around the rosies at the beginning of class. Which basically translates into a bunch of adults awkwardly bouncing and singing a nursery rhyme (off-pitch) while our children cling to us in terror.
After 15 minutes tonight, we gave up, I did my workout in the lap pool while Noah followed Ethan around the perimeter as he gleefully pointed at the flags and swimmers. At least he looks adorable in his swimming trunks pants.