swim class, laundry, and exploring twins

Yesterday Hazel went to the first swim class in the next level. Ted took her. It is a class where parents are not in the water with the kids. Ted said she took her time, was the last one in the pool, but it went quite smoothly. She tried everything she was asked to, had a good time, and came home proud of herself for putting her head underwater.

Here are Ted’s notes about the class (with parenthetical commentary by me):

  • Didn’t want to get in initially, was last one in class to get in. Instructor was interacting with the kids, asked silently parents to go sit down (pointing and twitching of eyebrow).
  • Hanging to the side of the pool.
  • Seven minutes in appears to be negotiating and smiling.
  • 11 minutes in gets head wet and kicking feet hanging to the side.
  • We wave to each other. She’s always known where I was. She’s been glancing back to me occasionally.
  • 12 mins in touches ear to water. (VICTORY – she never wanted to do that in the last class)
  • Instructor keeps her hair wet, gently.
  • Time for assisted back floats, Hazel does it at 18 mins and is last/skeptical of it. She likes it. (VICTORY the 2nd!)
  • 20 min in she has to go potty.
  • 25 mins in she dunks face and blows bubbles (VICTORY the 3rd!)
  • 28 mins class is over, she climbs out.
  • —–

    I’ve been doing all of our laundry. It’s a thing that can never be entirely done, given that we keep on wearing our clothes, using our towels, and generally living in our house, but one can get close with a certain amount of effort. It is lovely to have clean clothes that are folded and put away in their drawers. One of life’s little pleasures. It makes such a big difference not to have to hunt through the Mount Everest of clothing on the laundry room table. My plan has been to pack as I fold clothes. I did indeed bring up suitcases from the basement in order to do so. They are sitting, empty and space-inhabiting, in the bedroom as each evening I say, “Well, I guess I’ll pack tomorrow.” Presumably I will do so at some point before we leave for the airport. I wouldn’t actually want to take the desire for cleanliness and organization so far that I refused to allow my family more than the clothes that are currently on their backs.

    —–

    I am hearing little effortful baby noises from down at the foot of my chair. Emily is testing my backpack for edibility. I think perhaps she might follow in her dad’s footsteps as the tester of the family. His nickname when he was a kid was, “Destructo”. If he couldn’t break it, it was a marketable item. That’s when he was 2 to 11 years old, he says. “Then I started getting better at putting stuff back together.”

    Now she’s heading for Joanna, to remove at least one of the toys with which she is amusing herself. Ted says that the other day he gave them each an identical wooden ring. He put them on their ankles. Joanna promptly grabbed for Emily’s, ignoring her own. I think he likes to play with them like they’re the kitties, though I hope his zeal will abate before he accomplishes what he did a few years ago, which is to get the cats to bonk heads while going for the same toy. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him laugh so hard. Maniacal might not even cover it.

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