The Pool USED to be relaxing

Remember when the pool used to be quiet, serene, rejuvenating? Perhaps even a place where you would take a nap, read a book, look cute in a bikini?

You’d pack a small bag, usually cute and colorful. You’d bring a book and a towel, Maybe even a diet coke and your phone, a mindless magazine.

When you have kids, you have to pack a twenty pound fucking suitcase in the form of an Ikea shopping bag.  You need towels, swim diapers, diapers, snacks, sippy cups, dry change of clothes, wipes, goggles, dumb swim toys that get lost.

The only relaxing moment I have, is when after the two hours, there is no shit in any of their swim diapers. Now that’s a sigh of relief .

Fortunately, the pool we go to has a no entry part with four fountains. This is designed for the newly walking babies who can’t swim. So of course ,my daughter has to stand on top of a fountain , head cocked with her pippy long stocking braid, yelling,

“ It tickles my vagina! It tickles my vagina!!!!!”  She then looks to the boy next to her, “Does it tickle your peanuts????”

 I pretend she’s not mine.

Yesterday, I decided to take my two year old son to the pool, while Emma was at school. I told him we were going to the pool, so the entire car ride to the pool he screamed and cried. “ I wanna go to the pool. I wanna go to the pool. I wanna go to the pool.”  Nothing moves fast enough for a two year old. “ We are going to the pool buddy.” I tell him, hoping for quiet.

He continues screaming.

Am I really going to try to reason with this mental patient? WTF? Don’t I know better?

I blast the radio. Coldplay, and screaming.

So relaxing.

We arrive. It takes a fucking hour just to get ready to get into the pool. His swim diaper, his bathing suit, his sunscreen. All while he is squirming around like I am applying torture to his every body part.

Then, I have to put on my swimsuit . As I’m sucking in my muffin top with all my might, and adjusting my saggy boobs, he is pulling all the toilet paper off the roll. I finally find my other thong in the midst of toilet paper. 

Oh, how I love my post 2 babies later body, just the way the spandex of a bathing suit accents that pooch. I notice all summer attire seems to accent my muffin top and waist…. What waist?

The pool feels good. It’s 120 degrees in Atlanta right now, so the water is nice.

Jaxson won’t let go of me.

He is kicking my muffin top, scratching my neck, and pulling my top down saying ,” boobs, boobs”. 

He finds a plastic tea kettle and fills it with water. He pours it over my head, fills it , pours It over my head, fills it, pours it over my head.  “Jaxson,” I say, “ Stop pouring water over my head!” I laugh trying to seem like a “fun mom” to the people around me. He continues to pour and fill, pour and fill, pour and fill. Then also head butts me when he gets the chance.

After one hour (5 hours in mom time) I decide we're leaving.

He has a temper tantrum because he doesn’t want to leave. I mean we were having so much fun.

It takes another hour to get him changed. 

No shit in his swim diaper though..........highlight.

As we are walking to the car I am thinking, now can I relax?

Hope he takes a good nap.

I mean, Come on, that was the whole fucking point to this exercise.