The Pool
If you don’t have a neighborhood pool, get one.
And if your kids complain every summer morning because they have to get up before God turns the air on and get in it for swim team practice, ignore them and tell them that Back In My Day I had to walk to summer swim team practice in the snow!
If your child is given to screwing up his champion breast stroke because, when he sees you watching him, he laughs…watch him anyway.
And when they hunt you down in between their events to beg, borrow, or steal a few bucks for ‘something to eat’ (read: candy), deny them outright…because this isn’t your first rodeo. They can, however, have some fruit.
Or, better yet, some vegetables. (I go for the vegetables)
If your neighborhood happens to have one of those Eternal Pillars of Mom-ness, like Laura here (who is not only an Eternal Pillar of Mom-ness, but also eternally cool), then thank your lucky stars. Because a neighborhood with a billion kids needs a Pillar on every perimeter if there’s to be even a scintilla of security and to keep an eye on the demonic horde (read: that billion kids I just mentioned).
And this is our neighborhood pool. And from Memorial Day to Labor Day it is, all by itself, the nucleus and heartbeat of our patch of heaven. Swim team practice every morning and swim meets every Saturday. All the mom’s running the show (dad’s, don’t even try telling me we do anything to make these things run smoothly. Because you know and I know these woman could run Congress with their eyes closed before we even have the guts to admit that, when it comes to the kids being corralled, carpooled, and organized, the most we got is a vague awareness that there are short people in the house.)
But it was a Saturday, and that meant another swim meet. And grills fired up (awesome). And hot dogs and hamburgers (win), root beer (after your last race), candy (no), fruits and vegetables (yes, and don’t roll your eyes at me), and some of the greatest people we’ve had the good fortune to call friends.
And then this little guy, catching forty winks while his mom did that Mom (or Dad) Sway Back and Forth that all moms and dads do instinctively whenever they hold one of these lil’ sack o’ potatoes.
Looks like a future breast stroke champion if you ask me.
I love the way your mind works….
Excellent writing
Beautiful pictures
Super mom
Lucky kids