splishy splashy
Saturday, March 24, 2007
Took Becca swimming this morning: usually this is a daddy-and-daughter Saturday morning bonding activity, but there was a working bee on at her crèche and the activities on offer were along the lines of digging out tree stumps, so I decided that swimming was the softer option and packed J off with a backpackful of garden tools. Fortunately, my non-maternity cozzie still fits (an advantage to having an economy-size bump). Unfortunately, I'd forgotten how often guiding a metre-tall person through approx 1.2 metres of water, your hands linked gently under her armpits, gets you booted in the stomach, something I'm not keen to encourage in my present delicate condition.
Still, she's come a long way in the year since I started taking her to lessons. I didn't fancy the various branches of the Palais de Fungus chain when we lived in Cambridge, particularly as her eczema was much worse then, so she didn't actually get into a public swimming pool until she was nearly two, when we returned to NZ. Back then upon sight of the water she would limpet to me for dear life, wrapping her legs around my waist and digging her toes into my back. She could reluctantly be pried loose to play with the odd floaty toy, but refused to put her face anywhere near the water, or even to be held facing outwards. Now she doggy paddles around quite independently with a noodle (long tubular flotation device) tucked under her arms, goes under water without a fuss and takes the odd faceful (or even lungful) of water entirely in her stride, and with minimal theatrics. And after lessons she disdains the toddler pool (alas for Mummy because although it's only 20cm deep it's lovely and warm) in favour of the chillier 66cm learner pool, fighting the bigger kids for the floaty turtles and crabs, which she lies atop and propels herself around on. Then she comes home, devours an enormous lunch and passes out. Hopefully long enough for Mummy to get some work done; it's been a busy week.
Next term, having turned three, she goes up into the preschooler class. Which I guess means she's not a toddler any more. Blimey.
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