Dead man walking

That's how I feel. It's Thursday. Just one hour to go until swimming lessons. This is my last attempt. It's not looking good. Son 2 is in one of his stubborn phases this afternoon. Despite bitterly cold winds, he refuses point blank to wear a jumper. This doesn't bode well. Son 1 came out of school and immediately demanded that he wanted to play with his friend. I said we couldn't because said friend was going home with his childminder. This resulted in a spectacular tantrum outside the school, all the while son 2 sat shivering in a t-shirt on his trike.

I've now got them glued to the TV drinking cups of tea and eating biscuits. This is my attempt to let them relax and restore their strength. Meanwhile, my stomach is churning at the thought of returning to the pool.

They have been looking forward to this day all week because I've resorted to bribery. I have my bag of gogos stashed up high. They have been promised a gogo each if they don't cry at swimming. They have been dead keen on this plan. They've even been practising their swimming pool smiles. But I know that the power of gogos might prove futile in the face of having to actually get wet.

I can't believe how much I'm dreading this. At best, my bribe works, they swim and then come home and have a major fight about who gets which gogo, or not being able to decide which gogo to choose or having a fit because they haven't been allowed to choose a gogo. Whichever option I go with, I will need earplugs. At mid-to-bad they will scream and cry and perform and I will write off £80 and not return to swimming lessons and find some other way to teach them how not to drown and feel as though I'm giving up. At worst, it will be inconclusive. One will be fine, the other will scream, putting me in a quandary for future lessons. Not to mention the fight that will happen at home when one gets rewarded with a gogo while the other isn't.

There is so much potential for complete and utter disaster this afternoon that I feel I need some valium - or at least Rescue Remedy - to cope.

I will report back. Probably deaf. Probably wet. Probably gulping wine.