Reluctant swimming dad blog
Paul has bad memories of swimming lessons and now his wife has charged him with taking his daughter swimming. Will he become a swimming convert as his three-year-old learns? Follow his blog to find out.
Wow the water’s cold. My daughter doesn’t look too sure either. Mind you, she usually comes to swimming lessons with her mum. Don’t get me wrong she loves her dad, but she has developed a comfort zone in the pool and I am not usually in it.
Bea throws me a “you are not filling me with confidence” look. I comfort her, hold on to the woggle and try not to get distracted by further Liverpool FC 2010 season woes.
I'm Paul and my wife’s work pattern has changed so I now get to do my three-year-old’s swimming lesson at the local pool. On the plus side I can just make out the plasma screen in the gym from the pool. What? Torres out for the rest of the season!
“Hold the woggle please, your daughter is slipping,” says the teacher. Oops, must engage. Bea throws me a “you are not filling me with confidence” look. I comfort her, hold on to the woggle and try not to get distracted by further Liverpool FC 2010 season woes.
I’m the first to admit I know nothing about swimming and so when my wife landed the news of my responsibility on me my first reaction wasn’t positive. I have heard of Rebecca Adlington and the young fellow who dives but that is the extent of my knowledge.
My learning to swim experiences revolve around a harridan teacher screaming ‘legs’ at me when I bent my legs learning front crawl, and cold dressing rooms. Well, that’s how I remember it. The last thing I wanted to do was guide my daughter through the same experience.
I’m happy to say my first impressions at today’s lesson are that things have changed. However, it is early days and so I want to catalogue my experiences through a regular blog to help other dads in my position.
My wife tells me that taking Bea to lessons will get me more into swimming. Hmm, I’m withholding judgement. But it looks as if it will help me get closer to Bea. Now I am paying attention she is already smiling and trying to blow what looks like a small floating Saturn across the pool. I am tempted to join in.
And I am not the only dad in the pool. A pot-bellied, heavily tattooed bruiser of a man is busy encouraging his daughter. A strange but somehow comforting sight. I am not alone. If he can do it so can I. I wonder if he likes football?
Useful?
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