She was literally begging for it while wearing her swimsuit around the house all day, so last week, K2 and I started swimming lessons. We go to the brand new city pool near us in DC, which--hey-ho!--is utterly fantastic. And free. And the lessons are practically free.
Which is too bad, because though we've only had two lessons so far, it's pretty obvious that they're completely unorganized, unplanned, and nearly useless.
Unless you count destroying my kid's faith that her dad will protect her and rapidly instilling fear at the cellular level of the song, "Pop Goes The Weasel."
Nearly the first thing out of the teacher's mouth the first lesson was, "We're going to get the children used to putting their faces in the water. So when we get to 'Pop!' just dunk them."
Uh-huh. Seeing as how getting a barely 2-yo kid comfortable with a wet face was the end goal of the kid's first swimming class [at the YMCA], it was pretty obvious that this woman has no idea what to do. [When she had 2-yos taking turns shooting basketball, all doubt fled.]
Anyway, this week in the second lesson, no sooner did the teacher mention "Pop Goes The Weasel," than K2 starts yelling, "No! No way!" I start to bounce, and she completely freaks out and demands to watch the rest of the lesson from the edge of the pool. Which she does. For these hapless kids--or at least for K2--"Pop Goes The Weasel" is their "Jaws Theme." And at the moment, she does not think it's safe to go back in the water.