A Trip to the Pool

When we moved here twelve years ago (and really, how has it been twelve years?) we had no kids. (Those of you with good math skillz already pieced that together.) As neither Tim nor I are huge pool people, having a neighborhood with a pool was not a huge concern. (Honestly, we had 3 pools in our neighborhood in South Carolina and we never went even one time.) We loved (still do) the house, it worked, we bought it. And really the pool thing has never been an issue. Until basically last year.

The elder boy is a swimming muldoon. He is, I believe, part fish. He begs to go to the pool just about every day regardless of season, but if it's hot outside, he definitely wants to be out swimming. We can assuage some of this with our little backyard wading pool, but only some of it. Year round swimming lessons help some as well, since he's guaranteed a pool session every week. The rest of the time, we are relegated to mooching.

My sister (thankfully) has a neighborhood pool. She had never used it (in 12 years) until last year. Because of the elder boy we used it just about every day during the summer. At least she's finally getting her money's worth on those HOA dues.

Anyway, today was our first mooch trip to her pool. It bears mention here that I have the best sister in the universe because she took us to the pool despite being very tired and mostly ill and due to have gallbladder surgery tomorrow. But because she is the world's greatest aunt, she sucked it up and we went swimming. (And this is about all the acclaim you'll get, so cherish it.)

Can I just say that the sheer amount of stuff you have to drag to the pool with two kids is insane? I wonder if they'd let pack mules into the area?

The younger boy has stopped hating his baths, so I was optimistic that he might enjoy hanging out in his floaty thing. I should know better than to be optimistic. The trouble began in the changing room. See, I bought his swimsuit about six weeks ago. This is roughly one week prior to his overnight growth spurt. But when I bought it, he was about 11 pounds and pretty average sized for his age. So I got the 12-18 pound size and figured, yeah, that'll last him the summer.

I managed to wedge him into the trunks, but you could tell that he was not loving the loss of circulation around his midsection. The elastic was stretched as far as it could stretch. The swim shirt...well, I could get it to about mid-forehead (despite being all stretchy swimsuit material.) The little sun hat straps had about an inch between them when tugged around his chin. So, ok fine, the hat was tight enough it probably didn't need the strap. No shirt, but hey the trunks are fine and he has a built in shade in his floaty, so he'd probably be ok.

We waded into the pool, I flopped the floaty in the water, poked his little legs through the holes...and you'd've thought I was murdering the poor baby. Now, sure, the water was a little chilly at first touch, but it was by no means cold. So I thought, hey, he'll warm up and all will be well.

Um. No.

After a few minutes of trying to make him see just how fun the pool could be, I gave up and he and I went and sat in the shade while my sister and the elder boy frolicked in the water. We'll obviously be taking a brief hiatus from the pool while she recovers, but after that, we're going to have to rethink the logistics of the pool. After I buy the younger one a new suit.

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