Each summer when I was a kid I looked forward to swimming lessons.  We didn't have a public pool in Cold Spring, so the time at the high school pool during lessons was a big deal.  I remember my favorite swimming teacher - a high school girl that we all thought was SO beautiful.  We would work really hard to learn the new skills, and hope hope hope that we would pass to the next level at the end of the two weeks of lessons.  I stayed in swimming lessons until I passed the final level and became a lifeguard, thinking I was very strong and cool to be able to swim all those laps in the designated time and to drag a football player from the bottom of the pool and onto the pool deck.

So I was thrilled last night when Martin and Sophie started their first round of swimming lessons for 1-5 year-olds in the Middle School pool where the Hutchinson Tigersharks swim.  The kids have both been swimming before, but I wanted them to have the same kind of experience that I did.  The combination of looking forward to swimming lessons each summer, admiring the high school-aged instructors, and of course learning to love the water.

Martin was thrilled because his friend Jordan from up the street was there with his dad.  Sophie liked saying "hi" to all the girls in the locker room.  Sophie and Martin were probably the youngest kids in the class and they both did really well.  Sophie HATES putting her face in the water, but is an excellent floater (much like her mother).  Martin had a hard time concentrating on the tasks at hand, mostly wanting to kick after wherever his friend Jordan was in the pool.  I got in an extra half hour of exercise as I treaded water and swam after Martin so I could make sure he didn't get any trouble in the deep water.  My voice got a workout as I kept having to repeat things like "Give Jordan some space.  Everyone needs their own space when they're swimming" and my personal favorite "Quit splashing get your legs back in the water."  Marty kept busy asking the young instructor what the purpose of each exercise was..."What are they supposed to be doing now?  Floating?  What do you mean?  What's that for?"

All in all, I'd say that it went pretty well.  But I kept feeling like the instructor was looking at me, and I know it wasn't because of my raving beauty.  Tomorrow night I better double-check to make sure I wasn't flashing the crowd each time I would lift the kids out of the pool like I was the star of a Girls Gone Wild video gone horribly wrong.  I was extra careful to use the ladder to get out of the pool so that I wouldn't look like a beached whale hauling my butt over the side of the pool, so I know that's not it.  Or, maybe it was the fact that Marty and I were the only parents there with visible tattoos.  Maybe in some way they could just sense how much I loved swimming lessons and they were trying to figure out what kind of certification I might qualify for this year.  I hope I get a Red Cross card that I can keep in my wallet.