Waterbaby

Turns out Finn's not a very good swimmer.

No, seriously. He's terrible.

Given that his dad is a former swim team coach and his mom is part Orca (Ruffles is her third cousin, twice removed), and due to the fact that he was born underwater, we kind of assumed he'd know what he was doing in the drink, but he sinks like a stone. No matter how much of a running start we get tossing him in, he can't skip to the other side.

So we signed him up for swimming lessons. We were determined that he be practicing his butterfly in the kiddie pool this summer, but the reality is that we've only attended 3 of the 8 classes to date. It's not that he's not enjoying himself, it's more the fact that:

1. The water temperature in the pool is roughly 47 degrees below zero. The instructor is wearing a wet suit. Finn's fancy swim shirt is no match and his teeth are chattering immediately.
2. There are three classes in this pool happening consecutively, with roughly 20 kids in each class. As a result, it is impossible to change Finn after class in the credit-card sized locker room. This forces a mad dash straight from the pool to the car and a beeline home to the bath. I'm tired of driving home in a towel. This isn't LA.
3. Being that it is Seattle, the pool has eschewed chlorine for ultraviolet lights. This really helps you see the bacteria swarming you. And it's just as bad out of the water. I'm afraid to let him touch the ground.
4. The hot tub is an extra $.50. This bugs me on principle.

After attending 3 classes, I'm pretty sure I could do this myself. I had expected something fancy like the creepy baby "drown-proofing", but instead we get 1/2 hour of "Wheels on the Bus" and the "Hokey Pokey" with splashing and blue lips. There are 4 classes left and we'll probably make a couple of them, just because I'd hate to feel like we didn't get our money's worth.

But you can bet we're going to sneak into that hot tub.