A few weeks ago we took the kids to the pool in the million degree heat. Yea, us. Parents of the year.
Now let's not overlook the fact that I hate being in public in my bathing suit. But even still, I was willing to get past that so my kids could enjoy the pool.
While my husband took out 6-year-old daughter off to the deep end, I stayed in the shallow end with my 3-year-old son. Maintaining my parent-of-the-year status, I introduced him to the kiddy slide. It's a super wide slide that is about 30 feet in the air, gently sloping to the pool where it ends on a big pillow of softness in the water. No scraped-up baby bottoms for these kids. Of course he gets scared. I think if the slide had been in the deep end, he would've walked right up to it but no, he gets scared of the shallow end. Ugh. Fine. I'll go.
What's worse than being in a public pool in a bathing suit? Getting on a slide where there's barely enough water running down the slide to brush my teeth, much less slide my body down.
But I'll go. Because I love my son. I. L.O.V.E. M.Y. S.O.N. I must keep reciting this phrase.
We get up to the top and wait to get to the front. I watch at other kids who went down before us. No big deal. You sit, you slide, you land on the pillow ever so gently and are greeted with smiling faces from all the parents and grandparents sitting in a semi-circle around the pillow.
Now it was our turn. Down we sit, Noah sitting right on my lap with a huge grin.
I. L.O.V.E. M.Y. S.O.N. The lifeguard gives us the go-ahead sign and we go....nowhere. Because I'm sitting on a dry spot. Crap.
I wiggle over a little to where the water is cascading down in a slow trickle. Off we go. We land on the pillow. Oh wait...Noah's on the pillow but I keep going! It's like a horror movie. Somehow I went flying off the slippery pillow and landed straight into the pool. The cement pool with lots of people sitting in the water watching.
There was no graceful landing. Oh no, it was all legs in the air, hands flailing, wedgy-inducing horror. When I finally stopped, my swim suit bottoms had firmly planted themselves in wedgy formation, my boobs were precariously close to popping out and I had taken out the first row of on-lookers. Ok, that last part may be a slight exaggeration, but I had sprayed water all over them.
Then I had to get up. Somehow, without drawing too much attention to myself (because that would just be embarrasing), I had to un-wedge my bottoms, pop the girls back in place and somehow maintain my dignity.
I. L.O.V.E. M.Y. S.O.N.
Noah, oblivious to it all, was sitting on the fluffy pillow with a huge grin on his face and love in his eyes. That made it all worth it...mostly.
Later I looked in the mirror and saw I had raccoon eyes from my mascara and cement-burns in bad places. I am all shades of classy. Hope you had a good laugh at my expense. Laughing makes the pain go away.
Sara Jernstad is a wife and mother of two young kids who remind her daily that she's clueless about motherhood. In between chauffering the kids to school, cleaning the house, and attempting to make a meal other than mac & cheese, Sara also works part-time as an ultrasound tech, spreading jelly on bellies and joy to the world. To read more about her exciting life, visit her blog, thejernstadjournal.blogspot.com.