Aquanatal

Some time ago I described how the aquanatal class involves straddling a long cylindrical float and paddling like a herd of brontosaurus. Brontosauri. Big lizards.

Anyway, today I went back to class after a three-week hiatus (I was ill - I had a cold - swimming and headcold are a bad combination, especially once the headcold has grown tired of the head and ambled down to say Yo to the chest). And I straddled my float and paddled my legs, and now I have horrible horrible chafe-marks on my thighs. Ow. I don't like it. Remind me never to get fat; I don't think I could cope, between bending being difficult and chafing thighs, it seems like hard work. Not to mention what the extra weight appears to be doing to my left hip.

The class instructor panics in an amusing way every time I get kicked the way that makes me double over. I think he's afraid that the exercise is rousing the baby - but this here baby needs no provocation. I think I need to put its name down for kick-boxing classes as soon as I know what its name is. All this aggression and energy needs to be used in a harmless and constructive way, and outdoor sports involve too much laundry. How soon after a newborn can hold its head up can it kick an opponent to death in less than 30 seconds? Or is that, like breathing underwater, a skill that it loses after birth?

I also finally went to visit our neighbour whose partner of 28 years died in January. She's doing ok, most of the time. In some ways, she's better - not caring 24/7 for a terribly ill person means that she's a lot less stressed and has begun to put on a little weight; she eats meals now, which is progress. In others, she's obviously not better. I must try to call in more often.