In 1995, our Jenna was 3 and starting her first set of swimming lessons. The event just happened to be documented in the North Kitsap Herald, which ran a picture of Jenna and her instructor, and an article about the North Kitsap Community Pool starting summer lessons.

That was 18 years ago, and we’ve had kids in swimming lessons every year since.

Back in the early days, I think they kept the water colder. Kids got in the pool and their lips quickly turned blue. They couldn’t stop smiling, their teeth were chattering so hard. It was a good excuse to keep moving, I guess. Swim, or freeze?

Whatever the temperature of the water, sitting in the bleachers was always a humid experience. It didn’t help that I was pregnant three of the summers my older kids had lessons. Often it was so hot, I fantasized about standing up from my seat, walking over to the water, and just dropping in. Fully clothed. I thought about it a lot. I wondered just how shocked the other parents would be. They would probably have been jealous. The lifeguards might have been bothered, though. I never did it, but not for lack of thinking about it.

The years I wasn’t pregnant, I usually had a wiggly baby or toddler to keep track of. Which was harder: Keeping myself from jumping in the pool, or keeping an 18-month-old out?  Probably a toss up.

I made a lot of swimming lesson friends over the years: fellow parents, sweltering in the bleachers, eyes glued to their little swimmers. Turns out you can still connect with people when you sit next to them for 30 minutes a few times a week, barely looking at each other. Most of those friendships ended when the sessions ended, but it was OK. There’s something unique in a friendship with limits. There are no expectations, no worries if you don’t have quite enough in common to be BFFs. But there is sharing and encouragement.

It took a while, but I had a pretty good system down getting the kids out of the pool, showered and dressed. It was harder when I had three taking lessons, plus a toddler in tow, plus I was pregnant, but I did it! Yes, hard things can be done.

Of course, there was the time when my sweet girls were showering in the girls’ locker room, amid all the other sweet little swimmers. I was visiting with one of my swimming-lesson friends while I stood just outside the shower’s reach, waiting. I looked up, apparently at the same time several other mothers looked up, because there was a collective gasp. One of the little girls showering had become thirsty and was kneeling down on the shower floor, lapping up water. From the floor.

When I realized it was one of my own sweet little daughters, I ran right into the shower and did what you do in that situation: Rinsed her mouth, got her out of there, and ran home to call the pediatrician.

She didn’t get sick or catch a mouth fungus or anything, if you’re wondering.

Our current lessons are a breeze compared to years past. Just me and Jacob. He’s my only boy, and I’m having to get used to letting him dress in the boys’ locker room on his own. As we were driving home on the first day of lessons, he told me, “There was a creepy old man changing in the locker room.”

My stomach dropped.

“How was he creepy?” I asked, cautiously.

“Mom,” Jacob said, as if it was obvious, “he was old.”

Yep. Aging anatomy — just one of the lessons available at North Kitsap Community Pool.