Was it this hard for Michael Phelps’ mother?

I hereby apologize to my son for squandering his hopes of being an Olympic swimmer at the age of one.

I’ve seen the YouTube videos of those adorable babies demonstrating the perfect breaststroke and felt the shame of my child not being one of them.

Perhaps this isn’t a problem for other mothers, but in Brooklyn, going to the pool is an event. Where I live, unless you can somehow beat the crowd for that short window when the pop-up pool is open, the local Y is your best option.

If you choose option Y, this means procuring a swim cap for your baby. After you’ve found the one store that sells what could be construed as appropriate aquatic headgear, you are on your way to watery fun. Well, not quite, first you have to make the choice of do I get my baby ready at home or wait until we get to the Y. Let’s say you decide to get ready at home. Awesome, in the pool we go. Wrong. Pool rules state you must shower before entering the pool. Have fun with that.

OK, you’re showered up, everyone is in the proper attire, and you are ready to swim. You eagerly make your way into the water with baby in tow to enjoy a blissful 20 minutes until he’s had enough.

If all else fails, the tub counts.

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