Water Babies

Lots of the other newmums have signed their babies up for swimming lessons. Alice and I are not quite as wealthy as they, so with our chins in the air, we wheeled Bernard and Stan down to the municipal pool, paid our £2.85s, and parked our prams in the family changing room [on the other side of the No Outdoor Shoes or Prams Past This Point notice].

It was a little cramped, and we had to undress the babies in the prams because there was no other suitable surface. As soon as his nappy was removed, Bernard did a wee, so now most of the pram bedding is in the wash. For the occasion, he sported a dinky little disposable swimming nappy [I do have a cloth swim nappy, but it's a bit too big yet]. Alice and I both wore swimming costumes that have seen better days and were last worn during advanced stages of pregnancy. Let’s just say that the Secret Support was more secretive than supportive.

The air temperature at the poolside was uncomfortably warm, and the water in the pool was uncomfortably cold, which was a bad start, as Bernard doesn’t tolerate cold baths. We sat on a large crocodile [not a real one] and dipped their toes in the water. Stan, who is known for being a right shandypants, bravely progressed deeper and deeper until he was sitting waist deep in the water. Bernard, who is usually pretty chilled, did that thing where his bottom lip protrudes and widens and wobbles and his face goes red and his eyes get all pink and teary. I lifted him back out of the water.

Very, very slowly I moved into the pool with Bernard on my knee, and splashed my hands nearby, and then showed him that he could kick his legs. Wearing his bravest expression, he let me float him around; and only whimpered slightly when I turned him on his front. After a moment or two he forgot that he was being alarmed, and opened his mouth like a dredger, scooping up a big gobful of chlorinated water. Thankfully he decided he didn’t like the taste, and spat it all out.

Young Stan, meanwhile, was splashing and giggling and having a marvellous time. Bernard preferred to float serenely up and down on his back, watching the lights in the ceiling. We must have been in the water for about half an hour, which is a lot longer than we intended to stay on our first session. We let them get their faces wet, but we didn’t dunk them underwater; that’s for next time.

A fun element of disposable swimming nappies is that, on exiting the pool, you just pull at the sides and they tear off like a Eurovision starlet’s costume. We managed to find a better changing room with a proper changing table, and dressed the babies and ourselves, which took ages. We wheeled them out into the late afternoon air, and they both instantly fell asleep. Alice and I were almost as tired, and needed tea and chocolate brownies to recover.