Fortunately I've devised a way to keep us cool all summer long. We joined a pool.
Someone's pretty happy about that....
I'm not quite as thrilled. When you're hefting an extra grumble-mumble pounds around, the idea of sitting in a bathing suit, poolside, all summer long, is not all that appealing. BUT, the idea of drowning in a puddle of my own sweat this summer was, if you can imagine, even less appealing. Fortunately, I've seen the pool patrons enough to know that I fall somewhere in the mid-range of body types, and sadly, as long as there's someone there who's heavier than me at all times, I'm fine (um, hi, neurotic body image issues!) So while Ethan was at swim lessons on Wednesday, I popped into the club and handed them my credit card and said, "Make it so." "Do you want to tour the facility? See the kid's club? Check out the gym equipment?" "No. Pool. Here's my credit card. Do it."
And then we belonged to a pool. Take that, searingly hot scalding sun! Beat down all you want, this lady's going to be neck deep in the chlorinated oasis. Slathered with SPF 100 and with a big floppy hat on. Ahhhh, being middle aged. What fun.
After swim lessons on Wednesday, Ethan insisted on going straight from the indoor swim lesson pool to the outdoor pool (just to keep this straight--we're paying to use two different pools this year. at the same club. they're freaking geniuses), so I sat on the edge and enjoyed the sheer bliss coming off of him in waves
He is seriously so happy to belong to a pool that if we're not there, or packing up our bags to get there, he is asking me "are we going to the pool?" "When are we going to the pool?" "Can we go to the poooooooool?"
So we've spent a lot of time at the pool. We've been staying until about dinner time, and I try to coax him out of the club during the 5:45 pm adult swim (last 15 minutes of every hour is kid-free in the pool and hottub). Each time, he whines and complains about how we neeeeeeeed to stay longer (even though the pool is entirely in shade by that time, his lips are blue, and he is all but engaged in a full-body convulsion he's so cold. I have found that the simplest "if you can't pull it together, we're not coming back tomorrow," has done the trick thus far. Honestly, nothing has ever stopped the whining so instantaneously before, ever. I love you, pool.
When I'm not at the pool, sitting next to obese old ladies who are reading "Fifty Shades of Grey," (ummm....awwwkwwaard. I'm down with sexuality and empowerment and all that, but does anyone want to be sitting in public next to a stranger who is clearly and unabashedly reading lady porn?!), I'm probably in the back yard, setting up the Spiderman slip 'n slide for a play date....
Hi, dead lawn. My, you're prickly. Please don't pop the slip n' slide.
It was more of a run n' squeal than a slip 'n slide, I guess....
In the end, they decided just to fill their buckets with water from the little waterfalls and dump the buckets over their heads....okay.
Or walking to the ice cream shop....
mmmmm---mint chocolate chip!
or playing in the sticky wild oat pods--if you pull of a bunch of those pods and throw them at each other, they stick to your clothes. (also, note the attractive high tension electrical tower in the background. I expect our third eyes and random excess limbs to start sprouting any day now....)
Today Ethan is at an afternoon camp and when I pick him up, we'll head straight back to the pool, where I'm hoping Fifty Shades of Grey Grandma picks a seat far, far away from me.