I recently consulted the Mommy Handbook. The handbook is a multi-volume work and is under constant revision. Still, I pulled it out and desperately searched the table of contents, chapters, and the index, looking for this entry:
As a Mommy, you will purchase a swimsuit and attempt to coverup as many after-birth flaws as possible. Despite your embarrassment, you will wear said swimsuit in public so that you and your child can attend Mommy and Me swim lessons. Finally, and most importantly, you will shrug off all stares when your child screams, wails, hollers, and releases other guttural sounds you’ve never heard in her short life for a full 30 minutes because you told her she couldn’t get out of the pool midway through the lesson.
Ken and I had been splitting the lessons. He went on Mondays, and I took Nadia on Wednesdays. On Mondays, she asks to get out, is told no, and continues the lesson. Not on Wednesdays. During the most recent lesson, she worked herself into such a frenzy nothing could calm her. Even Simone, who is pretty gifted in this area, couldn’t get the tears to stop. So, swim lessons will be a Daddy and Me affair from now on.