D.L. Stewart: Grandpa takes a dip into modern parenthood

Picture, if you dare, four men with scattered whiskers on our faces and various amounts of stomach lopping over our bathing suits. We’re walking in a circle in a swimming pool’s waist-deep water. We’re singing, “I am a little pancake, nice and flat … flip me over just like that”“ to the tune of I Am a Little Teapot.

All of which might suggest way too many Saturday morning Bloody Marys. But the reality is that we’re engaging in the very latest thing in parenthood (or, in my case, grandparenthood). Because each of us is holding a baby and the very latest thing is babies swimming.

While previous generations of parents did everything they could to keep their babies from falling into bodies of water, this generation is actively dipping and dunking them in swimming pools. All over America, babies as young as six months are being dipped and dunked under the theory that it will help them enjoy being in the water and promote aquatic safety.

So on a Saturday morning during a visit to my family in North Carolina, I’m up to my navel in tepid water at the Little Otter Swimming School — wearing a swim suit borrowed from my son — pinch-hitting for him by dunking and dipping my 11-month-old grandson at his weekly swimming lesson. Along with three other fathers, I wade around the pool with the kid in my arms, singing modified versions of nursery songs while following the directions of an instructor who tells us when and how to dip and dunk.

One exercise involves hoisting him over my head before dunking him. Which brings with it an added level of excitement, because my son is considerably larger than I am and hoisting the borrowed baby over my head doesn’t leave me a free hand to hold up the borrowed swim suit. Another requires us to totally release the babies and let them sink for up to five seconds under the water, which, goes against every parental instinct in one’s body.

The babies react to all of this in various ways. Some laugh. Some cry. My little otter spends most of the half hour with a bewildered expression on his face. If he could talk, I’m pretty sure he’d be saying, “Why is this guy dunking me like a tea bag when I’d be happy just sitting at the edge of the pool splashing the water with my feet?”

The moms, watching at poolside, meanwhile, smile and nod approvingly at the involvement of the dads.

Or maybe they just get a kick out of seeing half-dressed guys walking in a circle singing, “I am a little pancake … “

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