I went to swim class with Lily. It was hell.
I don’t even know that I have the energy to share all of this with you. I met my mom and step dad there around the time her lesson was supposed to start. We got Lil into the required TWO swim diapers and my mom took her over to the pool. Little bit of crying, but she got over it when splashing started up and I put my feet (and, it turns out, a large portion of my skirt) into the water as demanded. We played for a bit and then I went over and introduced myself to the instructor John Paul (seriously, the guys name is John Paul). He told my mom to put Lily in her lap to show her that this wasn’t play time, but lesson time and she needed to get used to paying attention to what we wanted her to do. OK. I can dig that. I had no hope of going in as nothing I owned even resembled a bathing suit that would fit on my ever expanding, amazing prego body. So, my mom gets her in and the screaming/crying winds up. I foolishly think, “Hey, maybe if I go over by the edge, she’ll chill out a bit.” Wow that was stupid. The second I came into range she threw herself into a whole series of contortions, doing whatever she could to get away from her Grandma and into my arms. John Paul showed up to scold me and before he could, I pointed out that I clearly was not helping the situation and would go sit with my step-dad like a good little mommy. The screaming really took off, but now with repeated screams of “MY!” (if you haven’t read the toddler dictionary below, that’s her word for me). My step-dad chose this moment to make a joke. “Next stop, Auschwitz.” OK, that is darn funny, but here’s what happened. I was sitting there doing my best to contain my hormonal crazy mommy instinct. I had almost successfully put up the wall when he made me laugh. Instead of laughing like a normal person responding to humor, I started this odd little giggle that I realized was about to dissolve into sobs. I guess you open up one emotional path and the rest think it’s time to play catch. I didn’t want Lily to see me cry: 1)because I didn’t want her to freak out more thinking that something really was wrong or 2.) because I didn’t want her to think, “HA! It’s working, look at her melt down!” So I booked it out the front door bringing my cell phone with me. I immediately burst into tears and called Mark while he was on his way to the bachelor camping party thing. I told him I wanted nothing more than to fling myself into the pool, snatch my baby away from my mom and run off to a very DRY part of the world where, with frequent sponge baths she’d never have to see water again. He talked me down some, but told me it was up to me to pull her from the class. I could still hear her screaming, but it was winding down. I called my cousin Tiff (not home) and then my girlfriend Vikki. She kept me talking and distracted while I alternately sobbed and rambled. By this point I couldn’t hear her fussing at all anymore. My step-dad finally came and got me, announcing “It’s all over now, you can come back.” I dashed back in to find her getting changed by my mom and knelt next to her kissing her head over and over and stroking her face and trying not to sob anymore.
Mom and I talked and she assured me that when I went away, Lily actually had moments where she seemed to be enjoying herself… or at least forgot for a moment she was supposed to be pissed off. We decided that it was OK to keep going to the classes as long as I didn’t go until she enjoyed it. I also encouraged her to take Lily into their hot tub as often as she wanted. It took a lot of talking to get to this point and a lot of energy I just don’t have today. I am exhausted and she fought me about going to bed and I am way to tired to be writing all this down, but dammit, you all have become a very cheap form of therapy for me and I needed to get this OFF of me. Some day, my posts will be interesting again and maybe even funny. For now, you all get to read about my emotional crap! Whaa who!
Off with my head! I mean, off to my bed! What time is it?