Tale of the cross-dressing narcoleptic...

...otherwise known as my son, Ethan.

Today was our water babies class. We were very excited because last week, instead of singing "The Itsy Bitsy Spider" in a cold rec center pool, we were splashing in the Caribbean. So you can see how it must have been a real thrill to get back to the pool, right?

Well, considering Ethan generally naps at 10am for at least an hour and the class starts at 11:40, that doesn't usually leave us oodles of times to dawdle between nap and class. Somehow we manage. There is a flurry of bathing suits (Ethan's, as well as Husband's and the expansive spinnaker worth of fabric required to cover my ass), swim diapers (just Ethan's), towels, changes of clothing, regular diapers (again, just for the baby) and then we all pile into the car. There's something very surreal about putting a bathing suit on your baby, then bundling him up in a hat, mittens and coat. Leave it to me to sign us up for a swim class in the dead of winter.

Today, in the midst of the activity, I forgot to pack Ethan's change of clothes. I took them off of him, put on the top of his bathing suit and then Husband took over so I could get ready. Husband finished dressing him and bundling him up. I put towels in the bag, new diapers in the bag and then said, "Okay! Let's go!" Apparently, I missed the part where I was supposed to go back into the nursery, gather up the dry clothes and put them in the bag as well. Oooops. That's a pretty big part.

The pool was lovely. Not "I'm jumping the waves under the tropical sunshine" lovely, but considering it is 28 degrees outside, you take what you can get. Ethan proves to us over and over again that he is indeed a water baby. My friend, whose daughter is in the class, says he always looks like he's just waiting for someone to bring him a margarita. This is especially the case when he's mellowing out on his back, resting his head on daddy's shoulder.

Perhaps, though, he took this mellow dude persona a bit too far this morning. Maybe it was because his nap was cut short by a few minutes to prepare for the class. Or maybe it was because he was resting his head on mommy as opposed to daddy (could I be the more soothing of the two? Doesn't seem likely, but I guess anything's possible). Whatever the reason, Ethan all but fell asleep during "float on your back" time in the pool.

This is the child who will not go to sleep at night. In a bed. Or a crib. Or anywhere, really, without extensive fussing and boo-hoo'ing. "Nope, no bed, thank you, Mommy. But give me a pool, crowded with other babies and cold water and an instructor shouting instructions in her loud instructor-y voice. Then I can really sink my teeth into a nap!"

Seriously? Seriously. He is proving to us over and over again that the louder and busier a place is, the better suited it is for him to fall asleep. The wedding in Honduras? 500 guests, a live band and copious cheek pinching--slept through it. Water babies class, cold water and screaming babies--slept through it.

It wasn't until I took my half-conscious baby out of the pool that I realized we were "sans" clothing. Feeling super smart, I fessed up to Husband and my friend happened to overhear. My friend with the baby girl, that is. My very prepared, well-packed, no short-cut taking, super mom of a friend with a baby girl. I *heart* her for being the organized one. She came to the rescue. See, she had actually brought her child in one outfit, changed her in the locker room into her bathing suit AND packed new, clean clothes to dress her daughter in after class. That means she had an extra set of clothes.

An extra set of pink clothes. A pretty pink crocheted sweater with a rounded collar and dainty pink buttons. Oh yeah, my son wore it home. But I don't think he minded, since he was fast asleep.