We had our second swimming lesson on Tuesday and, typically, it was right when Sam wanted to go to sleep. Grizzly before we had even walked into the swimming centre, I wasn’t sure it was going to go well.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t wrong.
Perhaps the saddest part – sadder than having your baby cry quietly but fairly constantly through the lesson – was that he did everything asked of him.
Sam held tightly to the side each time we reached the edge of the pool. He kicked his little legs. He held tightly to my fingers as I pulled him across the pool. He reached out and grabbed (and tried to eat) the rubber duck I threw in front of us to encourage using his arms.
All while crying. It was heartbreaking.
I considered taking him out, but the fact he was doing everything said to me that he wasn’t having a bad time, he was just tired. I know my boy’s angry cry, and that wasn’t it. I did get a couple of watery smiles when he saw the duck (his favourite bath toy) and I quacked at him (a sound generally guaranteed to get a smile or giggle).
Sure enough, he fell asleep within minutes on the way home.
I’ve booked us into a slightly later class for next week so he has time for a nap beforehand. This weekend, Carl and I are going to take him swimming so he remembers that it is fun, and we can start afresh next week!