Let's go swimming!

I took William to the officers' pool on the base today. I learned three very important lessons in doing so:

1. I had to lug along a ton of gear. I felt like a Sherpa or something, hauling along the big beach bag, the diaper bag, my purse and the baby in his baby seat. In the beach bag, I had to pack a towel for me, a towel for William, his little hooded robe (a gift from his great aunt Susan), two plastic waterproof books, a spare rubber ducky, another random toy, a couple of burp cloths, his hat, sunscreen (for me), my hat, my water bottle, an extra outfit for William, an extra pair of shorts for me, and something else that I can't remember. We were both already wearing our bathing suits, so at least I didn't have to pack those. I remember discovering that it's impossible to travel light when you finally have a baby. Well, that's doubly true when you have a baby and you also want to take the baby to the pool. And I had to carry it all. Couldn't figure out how to get up there to the pool with the stroller.

2. William doesn't think much of cold water. He thinks even less of cold water when you submerge his little bottom in it. Which leads us to the next lesson...

3. Even with the rubber lining, his swimsuit does not prevent water from soaking into the diaper beneath it. After we "swam," I had to buckle William into his car seat to carry him into the locker room to change him. That little chore took about ten minutes. I mean, I couldn't even buckle the blasted thing because the diaper had swollen to epic proportions. I mean, half the baby pool must have soaked into that thing! When I finally unstrapped it from his poor little damp bottom, I about fell over from the weight. Seriously, I bet that diaper weighed more than three pounds. I increased my child's weight by about a fifth by having him wear it. I chucked it into the nearby trash can. Thunk! They probably heard that noise out on the pool deck. Or, they would have, had William not been crying loudly and indignantly at the indignity of being undressed twice in the same hour.

So it was quite the experiment. Now to be fair, William did splash in the pool for a little while, with some encouragement from me. We floated theback-up rubber ducky (pitiful little second string guy, no squeaker!) , and I read his Baby Einstein book about water to him. Then I tried to sing as many songs involving water that I could think of. Not that I could remember more than about three lines of any of them. But hey! I sang three lines of "Bridge Over Troubled Water," "I Love a Rainy Night," "It's Raining on Prom Night," "Don't Drink the Water," and "Splish Splash I was Taking a Bath." And several rousing repetitions of "Row Row Row Your Boat."

Luckily, there was no one else around to cringe at my attempts at singing and entertaining my son. Of course, the downside of that is that there was no one else around to admire him in his sea turtle bathing suit, lime green rash guard, and his navy sun hat. He was mighty cute, even if he didn't quite understand the purpose of sitting in four inches of cold water.

And, after a very looooong 25 minutes, we headed for home. Experiment concluded. I guess I should be grateful that they close the pool after Labor Day. Or should I say, I guess William should be grateful!