Ok, I’ll be honest. As much as I love taking SB (Small Boy) to the pool, it scares the @#*@&^ out of me every time we go. I don’t know if it’s from my days as a lifeguard when I was (much, much) younger, or our pediatrician reciting drowning statistics every summer, but I turn into a hyper vigilant weirdo every time we’re near water with SB. It’s like Baywatch, but instead of gorgeous people running in slow motion, there’s a lumpy mom floating around the pool with a death grip on her son.
I live for the day he actually learns how to swim – not that I’d let down my guard, but at least I wouldn’t be holding my breath, taut with nerves and anxiety every time we go near a pool, drive by a pool, talk about football pools, etc.
And the worst part is that SB’s FEARLESS. The first time we took him to the beach, he ran towards the water and would have been out to Catalina if we hadn’t stopped him. He has developed a bit of a thing about getting his face wet, so at least I can use that to my advantage now. Sneaky and underhanded, yes, but it puts a damper on his wild flailing when we’re in the pool, and I can actually breathe a little.
Today we drove to our pool (actually about a three-minute walk, but with noodles, squirty toys, floating grasshoppers, etc., we have enough stuff to invade a small country) and had the whole place to ourselves most of the time we were there. I like that because it’s easier to tow SB around the pool without having to dodge big kids doing big kid things in the water. The game we enjoyed (?) today was SB flinging himself at me from the side of the pool. Fun the first few times, but after the 300th fling my enthusiasm started to wane. It would be a great workout though; I could stand in the pool and have someone throw a 40-pound ball at me over and over…
On the bright side, the pool knocks him out so I’m guaranteed a long nap anytime we go. Maybe the fear factor’s worth it after all? As long as I don’t dream about water, I guess we’re ok.