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The big three started swimming lessons yesterday. They have them four days this week, and four days next week. Last year, we spent eight days at the pool, for approximately four hours each day because I scheduled them separate and spread apart and quickly learned that it wasn’t going to be very much fun…for any of us.

This year, Henry and Ivy are in the same class, and Essie’s overlaps their’s, so we’re there for an hour total.

The thing is, if you’re not in a lesson, you’re not allowed to be next to or in the pool. And if you’re a parent, they ask you not to leave the gated pool premises. Which I get…it’s all about safety.

His grandpa is going to keep Erv with him (you know…the TWO year old that never stops moving), but not until the third lesson this week (tomorrow). My dad is really great about babysitting the kids when I need him, but he was with my mom and four of my nieces and nephews on a trip until tonight.

So. Do you see why I was dreading the first two swimming lessons? Erv and I would be at a hot table, snacking on marshmallows and Chex while his sisters and brother are allowed to go in the big, fun, refreshing pool and “play” for an hour while he’s strapped into an umbrella stroller and forced to watch. (I think this picture says it all)

It could have gone two ways. He could have been content to eat his snack and drink a juice box while he played games on the tablet. The hour could have gone quickly, and we’d pack our things up and go home, eat lunch, and put him down for a nap.

Or, he could have an epic meltdown in the middle of the cement, umbrella-d prison, crying as he tried to wrangle his tummy, then his legs, then his feet out of the stroller straps. I’d check my phone every 3 minutes and 42 seconds until FINALLY, the hour would be over and I would yell at the big three to get their behinds dressed in dry clothes so we could just. get. out. of. there.

Either way, there was no guarantee that it would happen two days in a row.

So, what happened? Well. I can safely say that I’m looking forward to dropping him off at grandpa’s house before we head to the pool tomorrow.

The tablet that I was sure would keep him occupied? A glorified mirror out in the sun.

So today, I brought the DS, which he’s more than happy to play at home. At the pool, though? He’ll just hang on to it thankyouverymuch.

The snacks? He asked for pretzels, and then sucked the salt off and threw them on the ground (and then asked for them again today).

It really wasn’t so bad until the last 15 minutes or so. Then he started playing his favorite game called “hold my hand,” in which he holds my hand and then tries to use my arm to pull himself out of the stroller.

It’s sweet, until it’s not.

So yeah. It wasn’t terrible. But two hours out of eight is plenty, thankyouverymuch.

(And no. He wasn’t allowed out of the stroller. At all.)

Are there things you dread doing, just because of your child’s age/stage?

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