Friday, June 27, 2008

SummmmmerTIIME and the Infant is screaming...

We, being first time parents, are relatively ignorant of what we should and shouldn't do. As a result, we tend to try things many other parents would not. Not because we are brave or bold, but because we are stone cold ignorant of the possible repercussions. One of these boldly go things we heedlessly traipsed into was taking the Infant swimming. The Infant, mind you, can't even roll over, so it wasn't so much that she was going swimming, more that we intended to dip her in the water and see what happened. I suppose one shouldn't treat ones child as a science experiment but how else would one learn, I ask you? Now I did do due diligence, i.e. I did a google search on 'infant swimming'. And by all accounts, this would not kill her, so onward!
My BabyDaddy is the king of blissful ignorance when it comes to the Infant. It is a blessing and a curse. I, having consumed more preggers lit than any human should while on bedrest (cause really, after the 6th day of Real World marathons, what else was left to do?), am marginally more informed about what one 'should' do with a baby. He on the other hand knows no fear. Again with the blessing/curse deal. This blind bravery is what led to the pool adventure.
The BabyDaddy wanted, more than anything else for fathers day, to take the Infant to the pool. I, being a sucker for the 'but it's FAAAAATHER'S day' argument, agreed. With some trepidation. We waited til the last hour of pool time, to minimize both exposure to the blinding sun and trauma for other innocent pool goers. I battened down the hatches with 2 hoody towels, 3 diapers, a bottle, a binkie, a bottle, 2 towels for US, 2 changes of clothes for the Infant, a book for me (ha), etc. etc. etc (hey, I'm a first time mom, I have no CLUE what is going to be needed at any given time so I just take it ALL). As I gathered enough crap to fill the actual pool, I handed the Infant over to BabyDaddy to clothe, with a choice of bathing suits. Yes! Exactly - see you experienced womenfolk have successfully IDed this as 'error in judgment #1'. I gave him a CHOICE. After mounding enough crap to last us for a summer in residence at the pool, I turned back to the man and his child, who was, at this point, now wearing pieces of 3 swimsuits. the outfit read like this : regular diaper, one-piece swim suit, bikini swimsuit top, swim diaper on TOP of all that, and knit hat. I tried. I really really TRIED not to say anything but I had to ask at least the most baffling of the choices.... "so why the swim diaper on the OUTside of the swimsuit?" Apparently, he wanted to assure all the pool patrons that our child was indeed wearing a swim diaper designed to reduce spills, by making said diaper as obvious as possible. The fact that the diaper was rendered completely useless by it's location mattered not at all to him, it simply needed to APPEAR useful. Ah. Ok then. Sigh.
We managed to sherp everything to the local pool, which was mercifully emptying. In the gathering frenzy, I had not been allotted time to put on my swimsuit, but at the nanosecond of arrival, BabyDaddy had to leap into the pool immediately. Waiting for me to change would have been an unbearable delay. So I gingerly hand the Infant to mah man in the pool, and brace myself for the storm.... and..... nothing. A short pleased coo, and a mostly curious expression were all we got. BabyDaddy was delighted, I videoed, then trotted off to change, pleased and thrilled at what an easy charming adventurous little baby we had created.
By the time I got into the pool she was babbling happy, splishing about and her extremities were slowing turning a delicate shade of blue. So approximately 39 seconds after getting IN the pool, I get OUT of the pool, with the Infant. U-turn back to the changing room, to change her out of her swimsuit(s) in order to raise her core temperature to at least medium rare.
This part did not go as well as the swimming part. In fact, the second I touched layer one of her swim apparel, she let out a shriek that would shatter glass. And that was just the warm up. During the entire unclothing and reclothing experience, she made noises you would have expected if I had been, say, peeling her actual skin off, instead of just a soggy diaper. And I remind you of the 6 layer dip that was her outfit. There were a LOT of clothes there. Add the lovely echo chamber acoustics of the changing area, and I guarantee this child's displeasure was heard 4 counties away. Of course, the second the displeasure inducing changing was complete, she ceases hollering and turns back into 'pleasant baby'. I, on the other had am still shaking from the side effects of the shock and awe shrieking.
I emerge from the changing room damp, cranky and with significant hearing damage. EVERY eye in the pool area turns to look at me, and really no one wants that much attention while wearing a swimsuit a mere 3 months after giving birth. NO ONE. In truth, though, they weren't looking at me as much as they were inspecting my child for damage and/or blood.
Exhausted, I tuck her into her little carrycot, and flomp down on a pool chair, ready to finally, FINALLY get a little summer pool relaxing in for me. My hubby calls from the pool (where he has been frolicking this entire time), 'do you need me to come out and watch her so you can hop in?'. Just as the words, 'for the love of all that is holy YES!' are about to leave my lips, the lifeguard whistle blows... "POOOLS CLOOOOOSED!"
Ah... summer...

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