Miss7's 20m of Fight...

It's not far is it?
20m is a short distance. For an able bodied sober adult.
I postulate (oh yes I do) that it is the average walk to the bar and back distance. In my local.
I suppose it's further, relatively, for children. Little legs and all.
Especially if they are swimming.

Or are being lazy...

Dude can you pass me the remote?
Boy10: <Reaches but isn't really trying> 'Can't'
Oh go on! Don't make me get up and get it!
It's right by your head. Reach harder...
Boy10: <Makes fake reaching and trying noises>
REALLY? You're gonna make me get up?
Boy10: <More fake reaching noises>
<Sighs>
Fine... <Gets up> <Knees creaking noises> <Methane escape>
<Walks over glaring at Boy10>
<Just about to reach remote>
Boy10: <Grabs remote and passes it me> 'Here ya go!' <Big grin>
... <Glares> ... Thanks...
<Sits back down muttering>
What? OH IT'S THE WRONG REMOTE GROMIT!!! <Muffled swearing>
<Sighs>
Boy10 please pass me the other remote...
Boy10: <New fake reaching noises>
<Mutters>

I take Miss7 swimming once a week at present.

She was sent off to lessons with her cousin when she was younger. Which was great and she learnt a lot. But it was hella expensive (for us) and whilst I only took Miss7 to the class a few times.
Something about the class bugged me. Something just wasn't right about the class.
And what was bugging me was that I sat watching.
Whilst Miss7 was in the pool.

(Hmmm… <Checks swimming manual>

… I’m not entirely sure we’ve got front crawl right…

<Turns book right way up>

… No. No that’s still not much better....)

It didn't bug hugely.
Not enough that I would cry 'FREEDOM' stand, tear my clothes off, and leap into the pool and join in. No that would be weird.
But there was defo bugging levels there. And watching was/is pretty dull. And hot.
Fully dressed sat in a swimming pool is not the best fun you can. Especially in summer.
But the watching and not being involved did bug me.
Suddenly money in the Dragon household went uber tight. And lessons of all sorts were cancelled.
Everything was reigned in so our bank balance would, well, balance bankily...

Mrs. Amazing: 'So are we solvent?'
Yes... Think so...
Mrs. Amazing: 'Good'
<Continues sitting on huge Amazon box>
Mrs. Amazing: 'What's in the box'
Air... <Does shifty eyes>
Mrs. Amazing: 'What did you order?'
Air and packing stuff... <Shifty as you like eyes>
Mrs. Amazing: 'Open it' <Is serious>
I can't. It's un-openable...
Mrs. Amazing: 'Open it or I'll do it...'
<Opens box and pours out complete set of Guardians of Galaxy vinyl head figures>
Mrs. Amazing: <Is speechless>
Right... before you say anything...
Mrs. Amazing: 'Yes'
... <Runs>
<Runs back, scoops up figures, runs again>

(Guys… I want to you to meet your new brother!

This is Peter, but he likes to be called Star-Lord…

He has the best mix tapes!

Kids: <All worry about their father as he bounces Star-Lord on his knee>)

So I took my chance.
And Team Parent (yay!) decided that Miss7 would now be taught swimming by me. Which would be very much cheaper and more fun. Only downside was my utterly lack of knowledge of teaching swimming. I can at least swim.
Team Parent (yay!) agreed it was worth the risk, swimming I would teach her.
(Not grammar for reasons obvs.).

I am really glad I did this.
Swimming lessons with Miss7 every Sunday morning very quickly became a highlight of my week. Just us two. Alone in a small swimming pool. Learning and having fun.
I obvs. watched any swimming teachers I saw in the pool and stole their lessons as much as possible. And me and Miss7 worked really hard and it wasn't long before she had managed 10m!
Brilliant.

I send away for 10m badge.
Promoted myself to examiner and presented her with her badge and certificate. Signed by me. I did look into getting someone with actual swimming credentials to test her. But it was gonna cost. On the one hand I am not qualified to hand out swimming badges, on the other, what the hell!
Miss7 got her reward of one very large chocolate milkshake from the milkshake shop.
Miss7 showed off her badge to school and her friends.
All was well.

(Our swimming carrot...)

That was eighteen months ago.
And in that time we have been working on 20m. With little progress.
My abilities at teaching Miss7 were starting to be looked at. And if I am honest it was starting to bug me too. What were we doing wrong?
Why wasn't Miss7 improving?

It's not as though we spend every lesson playing.
Nope. We practice swimming then play. Then practice. Then play.
For eighteen months that's what we did. And the closet we got was 13m when Boy10 came along to lead a hand.
He's a swimming expert and I've been getting swimming tips from him. And he did help.
Still we were not making the 20m.

Then last week.
With a holiday looming where being able to swim would be really helpful. Mrs. Amazing suggested an intensive swimming course over the summer for Miss7.
I gotta admit that hurt a bit. It's not as though we weren't trying.
But Mrs. Amazing was right. We were not getting anywhere.
Bugger.

So with a deadline now looming.
Me and Miss7 hit the swimming pool early Sunday morning. Before it gets too busy to swim in a straight line. I gave Miss7 a good (maybe) coaching session before the lesson. And made it very clear we had one aim today. 20m.
No feet down midway. No goggles adjustments midway. No 'I stopped because I got lost' midway. No 'I forgot to breath'. No excuses.
20m. <Shakes fist>

Miss7 has at most one hour of swimming in her before her lips go blue. For reals.
Miss7 gets worn out after too many attempts.
20m in the pool we are in is two lengths.
No matter the deadline or my desire for to do 20m, it has to remain fun.
Has to.

Forty minutes into the lesson.
And Miss7 has managed eight lengths. But with many breaks in between. No 20m record at all. She explains what happened this time. Bubbles got up her nose.
I am sympathetic. But losing hope. Maybe I am crap at this and am being selfish wanting to teach her myself.
Bums.

I convince Miss7 to try once more.
Do or die! Well... do or carry on living actually.
Miss7 lines herself up and before she even starts I realise she is not going to do it.
Why would she? We've changed nothing. What on earth are we doing wrong?
Then I remember the golden parenting rule - If the plans not working it. Give up and get drunk Change it.
It's served Team Parent (yay!) well for years. Hic.
Many times we've tried stuff and got nowhere, only to change plans and get instant results.
So I change the plan and drain the pool.

I explain what I want Miss7 to do.
She's cool with it. Stuff technique. I don't care if your foot goes touches the ground. If you wanna float midway, you go for it.
Any style. Crawl. Butterfly. Dolphin. Badger. What ever you feel like doing.
I just want you swim as fast as you can for 20m.
Go!

Off Miss7 went.
It was atrocious. From a swimming teacher point of view. Terrible. Everything you don’t want someone learning to swim to do, she was doing. In many ways I think you could call it drowning more than swimming. She stopped every few meters.
Goggle problems galore. Costume problems. Got lost (!?). Everything you can think of.
EVERYTHING.

Eventually she makes it to the end.
20-cheaty-m of swimming complete.
And then I turn to her and apply the new plan. My great new plan.

My only hope.

Right! You just did 20m easy <Is lying>...
Now do that again, but WITHOUT putting your foot down once!
Miss7: <Mulling it over> 'OK Daddy'

I admit my hopes were low.
I expected more excuses. Stoppings. Water up the nose moments. I wouldn't have bet on her at all.
It turns I'm pretty stupid sometimes. Or just human. One or the other.
Stuman in fact.

Miss7 started well.
Good technique and breathing for half a length. But still my hopes were low as suddenly she turned over to catch her breath. Still no feet had gone down.
Miss7 switched to back stoke as she was in position for that. A few feet more and she switches to star float.
I walk past her (I have stilts the pool is shallow) and shout some encouragement.
She turns back to front crawl and she's off again. But the technique is not good.
She is trying though. Really trying. Her little legs are kicking for all they are worth.
A quick sink just before the pool edge, and I think she's lost it.
But she surfaces and on she struggles.
The turn is good and we are 10m in and entering the danger zone. Where normally breath is the issue.
Or bubbles.

Miss7 turns for another float.
But I can see the water is still splashing into her little mouth whilst she is trying to catch her breath. It's quite horrible to watch as really I just want to scoop her up and save her the pain.
But on she battles and I resist. I wanna to raise a fighter, so I better let her fight.
Suddenly we are at three quarters mark. She has never managed this far before!!!
OMFB!

But there's a problem.
On the last turn over from float to swim. Miss7 has knocked herself off course and is now very much heading towards a wall. Not one she should be aiming for. Not the finish wall.
I walk quickly around her and put myself between her and the wall and walk alongside her.
With Miss7 getting closer to me with every stroke. I figure her hitting me will be less shocking than a hard wall.
Maybe... I don't know.

We collide.
With barely 2m left to swim. I see her eyes flash up to what she hit. A smile and my give best 'GO ON DON'T STOP FOR BACON’S SAKE' face.
As I know she cannot hear me in all that drowning / swimming she is doing.
All technique has now gone. Miss7 is clearly low in breath and muscles.
OMFB! I am literally bouncing in the water.
Willing her on.

Her hand reaches for the wall.
The finish wall. Her hands misses. It's a classic I need to finish now reach. Yet she misses.
Her next reach is good though. She hand reaches the wall and she's made it.
My little girl. Half drowned and exhausted pulls herself upright and starts taking some deep breaths. She's got hiccups obviously. There's been a lot of water swallowed.
And despite my joy with her I give her space.
All I want to do is throw in the air in celebration and victory.
But I can see Miss7 needs a few moment to literally get her breath back...

You ready?
Miss7: 'Hic... Hic... Yep'

Miss7 knew what I meant.
I launch her into the air and catch her as softly as I can. It's lucky the pool doesn't have a low roof. As I am so happy and elated for her, for us, I throw her pretty darn high. Hence the super soft catching. Miss7 giggles in my arms.
And I tell how brilliant she is and proud I am of her for never giving up. Because I hella am.
We head off to get her victory chocolate milkshake, order new 20m badge!, and to let Miss7 rest. As she is utterly knackered.
Excellent fighting Miss7. Excellent.
X

(Totally official and stuff…)

He Lasted Half A Day...

With the Easter break over.
Boy10 and Miss7 were both back to school.
BabyBoy3 was heading back to nursery.
And Mrs. Amazing was back to work.
Everyone reacts to going back  post holidays in different ways...

BabyBoy3: 'Don't want to go! Stay home and play' <Cute stampy feet>
I hear you mate, and I don't blame ya... still nursery you gotta go
BabyBoy3: '’K' <Runs off>
Miss7? You ready yet?
Miss7: 'YES! Lets go! I can't wait! School-school lovely school!'
Mrs. Amazing you ready?
Mrs. Amazing: 'Adult conversations, hot drinks, toilet freedom... '

Mrs. Amazing: <Shudders with happiness> 'Bliss!'
Mrs. Amazing: 'I'm gonna go early! WORK!' <Punches the air>
Boy10? Where are you?
Boy10: 'I'm not going!'
Yes you are!
Boy10: 'No I'm not, I'm sick... My head hurts... That holiday didn't really take... please don't make me go back...' <Begs>
... <Sympathetically leans down close to him> You've got to...
Boy10: <Wipes away tear>
It's not me, it's the government and all the police people, you've got to go...
Boy10: 'I don't care if I go to jail!'
Really? There's no YouTube in prison...
[Super fast dressing from Boy10]
Boy10: 'Ready!'
Right! Let's go get this world! Run you fools!
[All run off into the sunrise]
[Credits roll, theme tune of Plantary [Go!] by My Chemical Romance plays]

(Boy10: ‘Where’d you get the hats from Dad?’

...Dressing up box…

Mrs. Amazing: ‘And the FIVE horses?’

Er… Sorry… Can’t hear you… <Rides off>)

Half a day BabyBoy3 lasted.
Poor little sausage. He had been fine in the morning.
Me and Miss7 and BabyBoy3 had headed out on scooters to nursery and dropped him off very happy.
He was a bit sad to say goodbye to Miss7 this morning. Knowing full well that she was off to school without him. And I was soon to leave for work. Leaving BabyBoy3 on his own at nursery.
Which may not sound too heavy. But after fourteen days in a row of all of us being there to play with BabyBoy3 every morning, it’s gonna be a shock to his little system. Fourteen days is still a fair chunk of his life.
OK fine. Not me being there to play all day. I still had to head off to work. I just guest starred every morning and evening .
But Miss7 and Boy10 (when not glued to the computer) were there with nothing to do but play...

Miss: 'Let's build a trap'
BabyBoy3: 'YES'
Miss7: 'We'll hang this on the door, balance this against the door as well'
BabyBoy3: <Gets teddies to blockage door with too>
Miss7: 'Shut all the doors so it's dark'
[It is now dark next to their trap]
[Flushing sound]
Miss7: 'Quick hide'
<Walks out of the toilet into the darkness, not really awake yet>
What? ARGHGGH! <Falls over, tangled in blankets, gets hit by pegs flying off blankets>
<Collapses in a heap>
Miss7 & BabyBoy3: <High five, then run>

I was home at lunch time.
To see BabyBoy3 as he only does a half day at nursery, and me Mum who looks after him for the afternoon.
I got the classic walking in the door shush. Followed by a point and me realising BabyBoy3 has crashed out on the sofa. We leave the room to chat.
Turns out BabyBoy3 didn't even want to scoot back, poor Mum had to carry the scooter. And guide a reluctant-to-walk BabyBoy3 home.
And then once home there was no demand for biscuits, or jigsaw puzzles, just BabyBoy3 lying down.
To sleep.

I didn't really think much of it to be honest.
Just thought his half day back had been very tiring. He's quite a run-about-and-shout-a-lot kind of boy. He plays hard.
So him grabbing a quick sleep didn't seem that bad.
But I checked his temperature and before I left he stirred enough to be given Calpol.
And again for some reason I didn't really think much of it.

I suppose.
It's because they are so big now. There are not babies, and BabyBoy3 acts grown up when he is with Boy10 and Miss7.
And they are both pretty sturdy now. Well Miss7 isn't she's very reminiscent of thin sticks to be honest. And Boy10 limbs seem to be borrowed from a spider.
But health wise they are strong and healthy. Colds come and go. I suppose I had just gotten used to how quick and well they recover.
Kind of forgot BabyBoy3 is only three.

Work plodged by (yes plodged).
And I headed home. Finding Boy10 on the computer as I come through the door. Miss7 watching cartoons and playing on a handheld computer at the same time.
Mrs. Amazing and BabyBoy3 strangely absent. In that I can neither see them nor hear them.
And it's the hearing them that is the most telling. If he's in the bath there is noise. Playing noise. Something.
But the house is eerily quiet.

Hugs and kisses to the big two.
And I head off to find Mrs. Amazing. Expecting to find BabyBoy3 hiding somewhere or playing in his room.
I find them both in Team Parent (yay!)'s bedroom. The curtains drawn.
Mrs. Amazing is reading a book. Children's cartoons are on the tele. And right in the middle of the bed, wrapped up like a little parcel is BabyBoy3.
Poorly. He'd been sick.

Mrs. Amazing shushes me.
I#d like to point out it's not as though I shout everywhere I go. Stomping about. But fair play BabyBoy3 is only barely asleep.
I sit next to them both and talk quietly to find out what has been going on.
It seems after I left for work. BabyBoy3 went down hill. Got hotter and hotter. Eventually got too hot and puked on the sofa downstairs. Lovely. Poor Mum.
Mrs. Amazing had returned from work and scooped him up in her arms. Dressed him in light weight jammies and here they had been since.
BabyBoy3 woke and turned his head to see me.
As despite my very quiet shushed voice, it's the first man's voice (mine) he has heard all day. True story.
His little face lights up and he smiles at me.

(How can someone so small hog so much of a double bed…)

Oh my heart.
There I was with loads in my head. Some work stuff still kicking about. Plans for the evening. Thoughts of what to have for dinner. I'm heading out to ninja training classes later and need to get ready, thoughts.
But it's like my head has slammed into a brick wall and everything else I was thinking about pops out of my ears.
[Pop]

Like that.
As I look at my little boy, all tiny and vulnerable and stuff. Still and quiet, which doesn't happen often. Laid in bed trying to watch cartoons but falling asleep a bit instead.
My heart reaches out to him and I just stop. I stop me moving. Stop all my thoughts and just lie down next to him.
I don't even go and make a cuppa.

A few minutes later.
Mrs. Amazing realises her relief is here and heads down to chivy the others into bed.
I don't move. I just lay next to BabyBoy3 and stroke his little head a bit.
Not as much as Mrs. Amazing would, I'm not that squishy. Instead I lay closer to him so we are touching a little bit. BabyBoy3 notices and wriggles himself closer to me.
I am really uncomfortable. My back is screaming at me. But hellfire! It's worth it. I am staying put.
BabyBoy3 moves his hand so it is in mine.
I become gushy water and splash everywhere like a bath being emptied from a building top. Emotionally I wasn't expecting this. I had been at work not long ago, where they're not so keen on people lying down and showing affection. The weirdos.
This is a shock to my system.

But for BabyBoy3.
His Dad has stopped and is now laid out on the bed with him. Keeping him company whilst he feels rubbish.
I am feeling a bit guilty because I am not doing the stuff I normally do.
But right now I really want to be with him so he knows everything is alright. And I am there.
BabyBoy3 rolls over and smiles at me.
Then he wriggles himself even closer to me. So that his forehead is touching mine. Personal space be damned.
And he finally falls asleep.

It's been a long time.
Since I've had one these amazing moments with my children. Where my heart feels like it might burst out of my chest. In a good way, loads of love, kinda way. We are always so busy doing stuff, having fun, rushing about. It's rare to just stop like this.
But for those twenty minutes before I've gotta go out. I stop my world for him, stop everything, and I just lay next to BabyBoy3 and give him all my attention whilst he sleeps.
And he lets me.

I notice his hands.
They’re hella tiny. They're still really very tiny still. His presence in my life is so big, so loud and all consuming. It forgot how little he is. He's only three.

There's things in the freezer older than he is.
Compared to me, BabyBoy3 is as fragile as a Miss7 LEGO creation. It's amazing he doesn't get sick more often, or break bits of himself every moment of the day. But he doesn't.
Somehow he seems to bounce off stuff he walks into. He picks himself up after every fall. Wipes off snot and tears in seconds and carries on.
Every illness burns through his little veins like fire, until it's gone, and he's back on his feet. Running about the place.
BabyBoy3 is incredible (they all are).

Team Parent (yay!)'s have a broken night.
First by a BabyBoy3 shouting for Mrs. Amazing that he wants water. Which I give him.
And second by BabyBoy3 shouting for me. As he's confused and has drunk all the water far too quickly and has been sick again. Mrs. Amazing take BabyBoy3 off to warm him and calm him. And I set up a small mattress next to our bed for him sleep on and he sleeps in with us.
And we all get through the night together.

(‘’Underbird 2 also doubles as something to nibble on...)

At 5am Mrs. Amazing wakes me.
For hand over. And I take a very happy, wide awake, and feeling better (yay!) BabyBoy3 downstairs to watch some cartoons. ''Underbirds Are Go’ his current favourite, which I like too. Until it's not stupid O'clock in the morning.
Illness gone. BabyBoy3 fixed. All breath again.
I stay at home with BabyBoy3 for the morning, whilst Mrs. Amazing works. Then we swap and it's a very tired me (really? Third person on your own blog?) that finally sits down at my desk for work.

WorkMate: 'Cup of tea?'
Four please...
WorkMate: 'Four what?'
Four cups of tea please...
WorkMate: <Questioning look>
I am going to shotgun the first two, enjoy the third, and then moan a bit that the forth one has gone cold...
WorkMate: 'Long night?'
Zzz
WorkMate: <Hangs a do not disturb sign on my head>
WorkMate: <Changes computer desktop to a picture of Justin Bieber to annoy me>

I know that when I am old and greyer.
When my life is coming to end, as it must despite all my plans. There will be many amazing memories to look back on.
Very near the top will be that memory of BabyBoy3 wriggling closer to me, to rest his forehead on mine, before he fell asleep.
That was pretty sweet.
<Itches eyes as they appear to be malfunctioning>
<Farts to enhance the mood>

<Has regrets>

X