Thursday, October 4, 2007

The Mommy Stroke

Now that Giulio is about to be four I thought it was time to move onto a new phase in his childhood: afterschool activities. Well, just one activity actually; swim class. I got the idea when I ran into the mother of Giulio's little friend Daria, who told me that Daria was taking lessons on Wednesday afternoons and she would just love it if Giulio could be in the same class as her. The classes were being held at the town's public pool, a place that any woman who has had a baby here or in the surrounding area knows because they also offer special swim classes for pregnant women. There is something wonderful about being in a changing room with a bunch of women all as pregnant and uncomfortable as you are, everyone's body being hijacked by this little demanding foetus. Friendships are born, confindences are exchanged. But later after everyone has had their baby it is more than likely that you will pass one of these women on the street and not even recognize them, no longer do they have a big belly, swollen ankles, nor are they wearing a swim cap. But I digress. Let me just say that after six years and two children, I knew the town pool quite well. It is a beautiful, 7 lane olympic length tiled pool, with spectator stands on one wall, and two walls of floor to ceiling glass on the other. You don't feel like you are swimming down in the basement, shut out from all light as you swim back and forth, instead with the sun reflecting off the water and illuminating your legs and making them look white and fleshy, you feel almost as though you are outside. There is also a smaller, shallow baby pool, which in my expecting mom swim class we used for relaxation exercises that I completely forgot once I went into labour.
Along with its beautiful pool and well stocked upstairs cafe' the pool is famous for something else: its' lines on enrollment day. Apparently twice a year they open the various courses, not just swim class but also something called aqua gym which is hugely popular with women. There are also swim classes for the elderly, swim team, and private lessons. On the day they do enrollment the lines are legendary. Apparently you go, get a number, and wait. It's the aqua gym wait that gets really brutal. They only offer it twice a week so people go early to be sure to get a number that guarantees them a space, arguments have been known to break out, though I have never been there to witnessed them. Its similar, maybe not quite as heated for spots on the Saturday children's swim classes, for obvious reasons. This way your child can go swimming without having to worry about school, homework, staying late at the office, or other afterschool activities getting in the way, and it is also when parents have the most free time. Fridays are also popular, no school the next day, at least for the preschool-elementary school kids. By the time I saw Daria's mother and booked it over there to sign Giulio up Enrollment day sign-up had been ages ago, classes started the following monday, leaving very little open. Daria's class was all full, as were all the Friday classes. The women in charge of signing people up merely gave an evil laugh when I asked about Saturdays. Thursday? Two spots left at 5 o'clock. Tuesday? Full. Monday? There was one spot left for the Monday 4:30 beginners class. I did some mental calculations. The class lasted half an hour. The time it would take to get Giulio showered, changed and back at home would put me at about 5:30, which would give me time if I had to be at work at 6.
"I'll take Monday at 4:30."
There were nine lessons in a package, which would mean the course would finish in mid-november. However now that Giulio was signed up it would give him priority over any new child signing up for the first time in November, so that if a spot opened in Daria's class, then Giulio could possibly be moved.
That was three weeks ago, and the good new is that Giulio LOVES swim class. He has this tall, bronzed goddess of a swim teacher who has them play games that involve splashing and jumping into the water one at at a time. Right now the focus is just on getting the kids comfortable with being in the water, and not on breathing or doing any kind of strokes. The mothers can watch the lessons from the lobby where one wall has windows that overlook the pool and from here I can see Giulio following the teachers instructions, playing games, and generally having fun. It would be perfectly pleasant if it was just me and Giulio, but unfortunately I have Livia with me as well, and that makes everything much more difficult. To start with Livia is walking now, a kind of staggering walk, that still gives way to crawling. She is still experimenting, while crawling is her preferred method of getting about.
On this past Monday we mange to get there early and in the locker room I have no choice but to kind of prop her up against a bench while I help Giulio change into his swimsuit, swim cap, and sandals. Then I have to change into flip-flops because you are not allowed past a certain point in the locker room wearing regular shoes. The cleaning lady who is always lurking around, sighing because someone just walked over her newly washed floor, will ream you out if she sees you headed towards the pool wearing "outside" shoes. So you have women elegantly dressed with their gold jewelry and their Armani Jeans rolled up wearing either some kind of water shoes or these blue plastic bag type things for shoes that they have in hospitals for people to wear when they go into a sterile environment. The first two weeks it was hot so I was wearing sandles and it only took a second for me to slip them off and put my flip flops on. On Monday it had gotten a bit cooler and so I was wearing sneakers which I had to take off, hurling them into the locker along with Giulio's stuff, all the while trying to keep Livia from crawling underneath a changing booth. We just use the general, open changing room when we get dressed. I take Giulio down the long hallway towards the pool, walk gingerly through the shower stall that we have to pass through to get to the pool, though luckily the shower is off, over to the bench next to the baby pool. We are early, way early, 10 minutes by my watch, and fifteen judging from the official pool clock mounted on the wall. Giulio is fine waiting on the bench, watching the other children trickle in through the shower stall, it is Livia who wants to move, making determinedly towards the baby pool which is not more than 3 feet away. I reach over and snatch her up and try to get her interested in the direction of the windows, but it doesn't fly with her. I then try and just hold her but she squirms and squawks until I put her down again. I feel myself starting to sweat and no wonder the temperature in here, according to the official thermometer is 84 degrees and the sun is pouring in from the windows directly onto us. Fine if you are wearing a swim suit, not fine if you are wearing jeans and a long sleeved shirt. After what feels like an infinity of struggling with Livia and telling Giulio to get back from the pool's edge, the goddess swim teacher shows up so I can leave. Livia and I go back through the locker room where I change into my sneakers and head out to the lobby to wait. As the lesson is only half an hour it should pass in no time but I'm with Livia in her tired-yet not ready to give up the fight-time of day. Which means she either wants to walk or crawl. She will tolerate being held, but only if I am standing up while I do it. I try and watch Giulio through the glass while at the same time keep an eye on Livia and her staggering. Now she is down on the floor which for some reason seems littered with hair. No,no, no, I bend down and pick her up, trying to interest her in the swimmers on the other side of the glass. Livia will have none of this, she wants to walk so down we go again, step, step, step, step, steeeeeeeep, fall, and she's down, and I'm bending over and picking her up and trying to distract her and she wants down and so......and so it goes on for the what seems like an almost endless half hour. By the time I head back to the locker room to meet Giulio as he comes out of the pool I am tired, and hot too as the locker room is like ten degrees warmer than the lobby. But now the hardest part is about to come, the showering and dressing. Not hard because Giulio won't cooperate, hard because you are fighting 20 other mothers for showers and space as you try and get your child ready. Giulio comes through beaming about his lesson, telling me he went under the water and as much as I would like to find out more we get in the shower room and find all the showers are taken by small children in various stages of bathing suit undress standing under the shower heads while their mothers shout instructions at them. Or in some cases shout and then go ahead and do the washing themselves. I wait, holding Livia with one arm, the towel and plastic bag with the shampoo and soap in the other, while some mother helps her pubescent daughter wash her hair. I roll my eyes in disgust, is this how they do it at home too? Finally they finish and I get Giulio under the shower, and as I am holding Livia I have to shout instructions and gesture as Giulio is not used to washing his own hair.
"Ok Giulio, put on the shampoo. Now rub! No, don't rinse! Rub! Rub Giulio! Rub! That's it..keep going! A little more! Ok rinse." Here I have to stick a hand in the shower and help him get all the shampoo out of his hair.
"Ok, now this is for your body. Rub it on your belly! Your belly, Giulio, your belly! Now your arms! No, don't rinse yet! And your legs! Good! OK, rinse now!"
It is not the most thorough cleansing, but he has been swimming, not playing in mud, so he comes out of the shower dripping wet, and I try and wrap him one handed in the towel, but can't do it right and suddenly half of the towel is dragging on the floor. We move onto the next stage of mayhem, the locker rooms where the benches and hooks are covered in bags and shoes and clothes. Some mothers ignore the signs telling you to keep everything put away in the lockers and instead keep everything out to guarantee themselves a place on the bench. We fight our way in and I put Livia on the floor where she is immediately drawn to the drain and I decide I won't think about it, and instead focus on getting Giulio dressed. He is still quite damp, but at that moment, with the heat, and the noise and Livia on the floor, and the fact that I am sweating, I don't bother to dry him anymore but just start tugging his clothes on. Why do clothes always take longer to put on when you are in a hurry? And especially when you are in a wet hurry? Ignoring the looks from the mother next to me, I have taken HER spot, I get Giulio into his clothes and start stuffing his feet into his shoes. This is no time to work on getting dressed by himself. I see Livia start to head out the door back towards the showers and bellow at Giulio to stop her. They both sit together on the locker room floor giggling. With my hair in my eyes and sticking to my nose I frantically tie my shoes and start stuffing things into the bag. I don't bother to seperate wet from dry, or to wrap up Giulio's suit in the towel. Nor do I dry his hair. It's short, he will be fine.
"Come on, let's go, let's go!' I call and hauling Livia on one arm and the swim bag on the other I make towards the exit with Giulio wailing behind me that he wants to carry his bag. We get out to the car and after getting everyone buckled in I flop into the front seat with a deep sigh. I'm exhausted, how is this going to work when I actually have to go to work immediately afterwards? Giulio however is happy, it seems that the swimming lessons are a big hit.

1 comment:

Michelle | Bleeding Espresso said...

What a juggling act Spaghetti Mommy--and I'm sure Giulio appreciates every glorious moment :)