Tiny Merman’s Pool Quest

Tiny fins discovering the pool, one gentle splash at a time

From the moment my little son was born, bath time made one thing clear: he was not a fan of showers… clearly taking after his father. Meanwhile, I’ve always been a water baby and live for swimming, so I hatched a plan to turn my son into a mini mermaid (or merman) from an early age. Keeping in mind that he probably still remembered floating around in my belly, I decided to bring him to the pool for the first time at just 8 weeks old. In Denmark, babies are allowed in the pool after just over 8 weeks, so naturally, I swooped at the opportunity.

As is the nature of every new mom, I over-packed everything imaginable: two towels, a mountain of swimming diapers, a tower of clothes, a portable changing station, baby oil, baby shampoo… basically enough to move our house and possibly half the neighborhood too. My husband insisted we take the bus to save the environment, a decision that sounded noble in theory but would later prove that a car would have been significantly more comfortable. With our entire worldly inventory, our little champion, and our Eco-friendly conscience, we set off on his very first pool adventure.

So eventually, we arrived at the pool. When babies are this small, pool rules are very clear: one diaper is simply not enough, which I completely support, because let’s be honest, my baby is a professional poop machine. According to the rules, the baby must wear two layers of protection, and before entering, there is a very official diaper inspection. After passing this extremely serious security check, we proudly embarked toward the baby pool.

I had been to the Aarhus pool many times before and had often seen parents floating around with their tiny babies in the baby pool. I always thought, “One day, that will be me.” Well, today was the day and I’m fairly certain I was more excited than the baby himself.

As we entered the pool area, something magical happened: my usually relaxed husband suddenly turned hyper-cautious. He took the baby in his arms, holding him under the armpits while sitting on the pool stairs, casually dipping his own legs and the baby’s toes into the water. He held our son like a fragile glass sculpture being transported through an earthquake: steady, tense, and terrified of one wrong move.

I encouraged him, “Dip the baby! Move him! Play with him! At least stand in the pool!” But he refused, clutching the baby as if more water might cause him to melt instantly. The baby, meanwhile, stared back at us with a completely unaltered, slightly confused expression, as if quietly trying to process why this simple activity required so much adult anxiety.

At this point, I was a little frustrated, so I took matters into my own hands …literally. I took the baby into the pool, gently lowering him into the water and swinging him back and forth. This, however, completely panicked my husband, who immediately decided that this was enough excitement for one lifetime and wanted us to leave right now. I wanted to stay, but since this wasn’t quite the magical experience I had imagined, I reluctantly followed him.

Little did I know, the real challenge was still waiting for us in the changing room.

As a new mom, you become extremely serious about your baby’s cleanliness. Thankfully, Denmark is a very baby-friendly country, and the pool had everything: baby bathtubs, changing stations, and heat lamps for drying. I confidently took one of the tiny tubs and started showering the baby, which is already a challenge when the baby cannot sit and behaves like a slippery bar of soap.

Mid-shower, it hit me: I had forgotten the shampoo, the oil… basically all the things that make a baby smell like a baby and not like a damp potato. So I ran back to the cloakroom and brought my entire bag of baby amenities. With the least possible facilities and maximum determination, I gave him what can only be described as my best improvised baby spa treatment.

Just as I placed him under the heat lamp, feeling slightly victorious, my son decided it was the perfect moment to poop directly into the towel I was holding him with. I was mad, but also proud of myself for packing an extra towel. I cleaned him again and started diapering him. Unfortunately, the second towel also was already damp, which meant his clothes were now damp too. So back to the cloakroom I went again to get the another, my, towel (because of course, I had brought only two).

At this point, I faced a difficult decision: should I leave the baby under the heat lamp and run for the towel, or take him with me? I made the right choice. I won’t say which one, but trust me, it was the right one. I ended up using a tiny burp cloth to manage the situation, because once again, I had only two towels.

Eventually, I got him fully dressed. Now came the next big question: should I shower myself while keeping the baby on the changing slab, or hand him over to my husband? Naturally, I made the right choice again and took the baby to my husband.

However, on my way to the men’s changing room door, I realized something important: I was still wet, and by holding him, I had made my son wet too. I was far too exhausted to change him again, so I decided he would simply air-dry like laundry.

When I finally reached the door, my husband said very casually,
“Oh, you took a long time. It was just changing the baby.”

I looked at him… slowly… through the corner of my eye. In that moment, he understood his mistake.

In total, we swam with the baby for 10 minutes, but spent one full hour dealing with the aftermath. Overall, the experience was not at all how I had imagined it.

I am a stubborn person and I don’t take no for an answer. As I mentioned earlier, I have a mother’s group (Mamma’s Kingdom), where we gather to complain about our problems (our husbands, our relatives, and occasionally, yes, our babies). After sharing my pool disaster, we decided to bring all the babies together again — but this time, not alone. This time, we went in with professional backup: an instructor.

That, however, is a story for another day, and a whole new set of pool adventures.