Our waterbaby

The first swimming lesson ended with tears. Tonight's lesson, two months later, ended with tears also. But the difference was that tonight's tears began in the last two minutes of the lesson, when the Babe's tiredness could no longer be ignored. She went from being the only baby who screamed the entire lesson to the happy demonstration baby. She's been dunked over five times and she can make it around the lazy river more than once without crying.

The best part? Her Dad's face when they finish their lessons, successfully and happy. I signed him up so that they could have this time together, just them, without me being directly involved. The first weeks were rough and we questioned whether or not to continue. I questioned whether this was helping or hindering their relationship. But with the splashes and smiles I saw tonight, I'm really glad we stayed with it.

Next week is our last class and I'm a little sad that it is over. We will see if there's another session, and if so, we'll probably sign up again. If not, I'm eager to find another father-daughter for my two Babes :)

~ H

First family vacation

Traveling with a baby is an interesting task when you arean A-type personality like me. Not having complete control over a situation canthrow me into a bit of tailspin. So when it came time to jet off to Cancun fora week of sun and relaxation for our first family vacation, you’d betterbelieve I had packed, re-packed, consulted baby travel blogs, stockedup on infant pharmaceuticals and even quizzed my husband about how to best survive theplane ride. Fun right?

To fit with my aforementioned personality, my husband willoften accommodate me and leave the house extremely early, carry everything Ithrow at him (and I do mean throw) and listen to my one-sided conversationsabout all the possible scenarios we could encounter.  So when we boarded the plane, he knew that myanxiety level was high. Red alert high. And when a gum-popping, loud-mouthed19-year-old sat down next to us, chatting with her friend about how manytequila shots she was going to do once they reached their resort, he knew mylevel had just bumped up a notch. Cue the Babe starting to cry and my seat neighbor rollingher eyes. I saw her. She was facing away but I saw her! Since we had begun totaxi to the runway, I began clawing at my nursing tank, scrambling to get theBabe latched for takeoff. I wanted to ensure her ears popped so we wouldn’tstart the trip with a screaming baby. I also oftenexpect my (poor) husband to read my mind. As I fought with my nursing coverwhile trying not to smack the Babe’s head on the armrest as she kicked the girlnext to me he asked if he could do anything for me. “Fix the cover!” I snarledand shot him a dirty look. Now you know how the rest of the six-hour flightwent…

However, once we settled in at the resort, found out ourroom was only 50 paces from the beach and one of the restaurants, and I got theswing of nursing and napping (the Babe, not me, well one day it was me too) onthe beach it turned out to be a very relaxing vacation indeed. We had one dinnerout with the group when the Babe went to bed thanks to long-range walkietalkies and a clear view of our room. I got a night out with the group ofdrinks and dancing thanks to the husband and my Ameda breast pump. We had familyswim time in the pool and the ocean and the Babe loved both types of water.This calmed our fears that she hates swimming altogether. I read 4 books (yes4!) and the husband got to partake in the group sports he loves and I… don’t.I overpacked heroutfits, underpacked her sleepers, had enough sunscreen for her but not enoughsunscreen for us. Sidenote: resort sunscreen is mucho expensive.

We agree: the first family vacation was a resounding success. Welearned a lot – bring a few spare crib sheets because handwashingdiaper-explosion victim sheets sucks; stroller naps on the beach are awesome; andbabies will get covered in sand no matter what. Also, seven days is the perfecttime away number for us – long enough to chill out, but long enough to miss your own bedand washing machine.

The second swim

In the hopes of having a slightly less scream-filled swimming lesson on Friday, my husband and I took the Babe to the pool solo tonight. We thought having both of us in the pool might make it easier for her. The first sign of trouble was when she started screaming en route to the pool and then fell asleep five minutes before arrival at the pool. Once she was changed and in the pool, the crying commenced immediately.

However, we staying the pool, vowing not to give up. And after a pass off to me and the introduction of a rubber duck, the crying stopped. And then started. And then stopped, but for longer this time. Finally, after some more passes between Mom and Dad and an enthusiastic aquafit instructor in the other pool to provide distraction, the Babe calmed down. She calmed down enough that my husband felt comfortable floating her through the lazy river portion of the pool. Three times! We were in the pool for over half an hour and by the end the Babe even managed... a smile?

No, at least not in the pool. But she didn't scream again and she even managed a smile in the shower afterwards. Perhaps on Friday we can hope for a repeat performance, or even fingers crossed, a smile in the pool for Dad.

~ H

The first swim

Or should I say, the first swim from hell. Today was the Babe's first session of Starfish swimming lessons. In an attempt to enhance father-daughter bonding time, I asked my husband if he would do the class with her. He agreed, and after some more conversation, the entire mom group I am part of all enrolled their husbands as well. Friday nights between 6:15-6:45 is now Daddy & Daughter Swim Time (we all have girls coincidentally).
At 3:30pm this afternoon I knew we were in for trouble. The Babe was fussing something fierce, was sleeping sporadically and wouldn't take her bottle. Fast forward to 6:20pm and she is the only baby in the pool having a full-on meltdown. We took her out, she calmed down. He went back in with her and she freaked out. I ran her to the women's change room, breastfed her and took her back out, only to have her scream the majority of the rest of the lesson.

We took our screaming demon to the change room, only to find there were no family change rooms free. When one became available, her screams became hysterical and I'm sure one woman thought we were harming her. We pretty much ran out of the building, not even saying goodbye to anyone.

After a silent car ride home, we agreed that next week will be different. A good nap, a good feed and perhaps maybe, in turn, a good second lesson.

~ H

Photo credit: Juli Kolby