POOL MEMBERSHIP!!!
Hola faithful Wild Boy followers!
So I'm logging in a wee bit later this weekend, but I can explain. The cop had training all last week in Monterey, and I was solo parenting. This means that by the time he came home, the boys were wildly excited to see him and I was about six inches from catatonic, sitting huddled in the fetal position in a corner, rocking back and forth and contemplating thumb sucking. You think I'm exaggerating, and maybe I am, but only a little bit and that's the sad part.
Anyhow, while the cop was anguishing in his classes with other high ranking law enforcement and "networking" (ok, lets call a spade a spade here - you're going out for dinner and drinks with your friends...I'm going to start calling my all girls spa days networking soon, but oh wait, I NEVER GET THOSE) I was dealing with two highly energetic boys the only way a tired old Momma can in the summer - pool time. Last summer we finally got one of the coveted pool memberships in our neighborhood. This may not seem like much, but I've lived in this neighborhood 11 years and tried for a full decade to get this membership. It's a lot like the adult table at Thanksgiving - someone pretty much has to die. This seems macabre I'm sure, but people, POOL MEMBERSHIP! Anyhow, once you're in you're pretty much in unless you break some cardinal rule like bringing glass in, and I have sworn to the wild boys I will disavow any knowledge of them if they conduct themselves in a manner that would cost us the membership. I'm sure that'll rear it's ugly head in therapy one day. But say it with me folks - POOL MEMBERSHIP!
See, most of you are thinking that in order to save the exorbitant money I spend on this maybe I should put in my own pool. Silly friends. I live in the land of pine needles, sap, and as I was reminded last night at about 11 pm after I just drifted to sleep, bears. Big, cumbersome, breaking things all the time bears. So, to have one of the 30 pool memberships is worth it's weight in gold because let's be honest, even if I don't have a bear swim party in a pool in my own yard what are the odds I'm going to make the time to clean it and not end up with an algae farm? Slim to none people. Slim to none.
We're all told that swimming will wear kids out, too. And once upon a time this may have even been true for the Wild Boys, but not anymore. This seems grossly unfair, too, because after 30 minutes in the pool I'm absolutely exhausted. But it's never a simple 30 minutes - the first five minutes I gingerly get in with my hair up and sunglasses on, then the boys ask me to swim laps with them and LIKE A FOOL I agree every time, and after about two laps Gabe decides he's tired of being slowest and may as well hitch a ride. After he gets kicked a few times trying to hold onto my feet he sneaks out the side of the pool and launches himself from the side ONTO my back as I swim by, thus stunning me and submerging me in a coughing, sputtering, underwater gurgled swear words fit. It's like clockwork. Every time they swear it's not going to happen. Every time they lie.
So, after I crawl out of the pool drenched and exhausted they play for several more hours. Keep in mind folks this is an evening swim, so they've already filled their days at daycare with things like bowling and SWIMMING. They can average seven hours of swimming before they slow down. I'm not kidding. Eventually we get to go home and sneak in a quick dinner before bed. I'm going to have to be way more conscientious about that part, too, because I overheard Gavin tell the cop this morning "one night mom had me make my own dinner and I made a plain peanut butter sandwich with a side of peanut butter - it was good but I was constipated three days and I think that's why we need jelly huh dad?" The cop raised an eyebrow at me and I met his look with a level glare that I hope conveyed my full level of crazy after a week of this on my own. He hasn't mentioned it, so I'm pretty sure he gets it. Smart man.
Now it's evening, and I'm thinking it may be almost pool time. Until next time, happy swimming from la Casa.
So I'm logging in a wee bit later this weekend, but I can explain. The cop had training all last week in Monterey, and I was solo parenting. This means that by the time he came home, the boys were wildly excited to see him and I was about six inches from catatonic, sitting huddled in the fetal position in a corner, rocking back and forth and contemplating thumb sucking. You think I'm exaggerating, and maybe I am, but only a little bit and that's the sad part.
Anyhow, while the cop was anguishing in his classes with other high ranking law enforcement and "networking" (ok, lets call a spade a spade here - you're going out for dinner and drinks with your friends...I'm going to start calling my all girls spa days networking soon, but oh wait, I NEVER GET THOSE) I was dealing with two highly energetic boys the only way a tired old Momma can in the summer - pool time. Last summer we finally got one of the coveted pool memberships in our neighborhood. This may not seem like much, but I've lived in this neighborhood 11 years and tried for a full decade to get this membership. It's a lot like the adult table at Thanksgiving - someone pretty much has to die. This seems macabre I'm sure, but people, POOL MEMBERSHIP! Anyhow, once you're in you're pretty much in unless you break some cardinal rule like bringing glass in, and I have sworn to the wild boys I will disavow any knowledge of them if they conduct themselves in a manner that would cost us the membership. I'm sure that'll rear it's ugly head in therapy one day. But say it with me folks - POOL MEMBERSHIP!
See, most of you are thinking that in order to save the exorbitant money I spend on this maybe I should put in my own pool. Silly friends. I live in the land of pine needles, sap, and as I was reminded last night at about 11 pm after I just drifted to sleep, bears. Big, cumbersome, breaking things all the time bears. So, to have one of the 30 pool memberships is worth it's weight in gold because let's be honest, even if I don't have a bear swim party in a pool in my own yard what are the odds I'm going to make the time to clean it and not end up with an algae farm? Slim to none people. Slim to none.
We're all told that swimming will wear kids out, too. And once upon a time this may have even been true for the Wild Boys, but not anymore. This seems grossly unfair, too, because after 30 minutes in the pool I'm absolutely exhausted. But it's never a simple 30 minutes - the first five minutes I gingerly get in with my hair up and sunglasses on, then the boys ask me to swim laps with them and LIKE A FOOL I agree every time, and after about two laps Gabe decides he's tired of being slowest and may as well hitch a ride. After he gets kicked a few times trying to hold onto my feet he sneaks out the side of the pool and launches himself from the side ONTO my back as I swim by, thus stunning me and submerging me in a coughing, sputtering, underwater gurgled swear words fit. It's like clockwork. Every time they swear it's not going to happen. Every time they lie.
So, after I crawl out of the pool drenched and exhausted they play for several more hours. Keep in mind folks this is an evening swim, so they've already filled their days at daycare with things like bowling and SWIMMING. They can average seven hours of swimming before they slow down. I'm not kidding. Eventually we get to go home and sneak in a quick dinner before bed. I'm going to have to be way more conscientious about that part, too, because I overheard Gavin tell the cop this morning "one night mom had me make my own dinner and I made a plain peanut butter sandwich with a side of peanut butter - it was good but I was constipated three days and I think that's why we need jelly huh dad?" The cop raised an eyebrow at me and I met his look with a level glare that I hope conveyed my full level of crazy after a week of this on my own. He hasn't mentioned it, so I'm pretty sure he gets it. Smart man.
Now it's evening, and I'm thinking it may be almost pool time. Until next time, happy swimming from la Casa.
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