You go to the swimming pool to relax, catch a few rays, get the kids worn out for their naps...aaaah....sounds good, doesn't it? Regrettably, this is NOT how it ever goes. By the time you get home you are ready to drink a bottle of vodka just to numb the memories of it all....
You make the plan the evening before, when all the kids are in bed. (Consequently, the house is actually quiet, so you THINK you are thinking clearly.) You wake up with a fresh start, brew your necessary coffee, and announce to the kids your ingenious plan. Your broadcast is greeted with whoppings of joy. The thunder of feet hitting the kitchen tile from hoping up and down should have been an inclination of what your outing would hold...
You feed the troops breakfast (one oatmeal, one cereal, the other two poptarts- because you're feeling generous in catering to them on this fine morning-hey, it's going to be a good day!) You go upstairs to get your swimming suit on...of course what should only take 1 minute turns into 10 because every suit you try on isn't covering the flab that seems to have enlarged extensively from the last swim suit season. 5 different swimming suits strewn on the floor later and one mismatched swimming suit on, you head back downstairs to crack the whip and make sure the kids get their things ready.
The baby has poptart in his hair, the older ones are making a high pitched sound they call singing, and the 2 year old has opened a bag of chips that you already told him he couldn't have. Deep breath, it's still going to be a good day.
Wash the baby's head with the smelly rag that's been in the sink for a few days (the only one you can find) , bark orders to the older ones "get on your suit now if you want to go!", and walk back up the dreadful stairs to get sunscreen lotion. You make the hike downstairs once again, and round up the two younger kids. The baby doesn't want sunscreen on, and the 2 year old wants to put it on himself. Argh....
Okay, everyone's sun screened up, now you have to go back upstairs to get towels (because it's still too early for the coffee to have performed it's duty so you forgot to bring them down when you got the sunscreen.) You make it down the hideous flight of stairs yet again, and then turn right back around-you forgot the younger two's swimming suits. You take the escalation of stairs one more time. Grab the swimming suits, and do a quick look around to make sure you didn't forget anything this time. Should be good to go.
The pool is close enough to walk, but you're not that stupid. You load everyone in the car, grab the bag of towels and sunscreen, and hop in yourself. Still might turn out to be a good day.
You get to the pool, everyone tumbles out of the car, and you grab the towel bag. By this time, it's a thousand degrees outside, and already 10:30 a.m. Finding a prime location to park it has now become nothing but an unlikely desire. Crappy location status confirmed, you plop down on the far corner, miles away from the actuall pool. There is absolutely zero shade in the vicinity. Probably won't be a good day.
It's swim time! Everyone gets in the pool and all seems well. The baby loves splashing, the older kids are having a ball, and the 2 year old may actually enjoy swimming once he let's go of the fist of your hair he's holding onto (apparently the water wings don't comfort him.)
Then, all hell breaks loose. The older one makes a huge spash, which in turn causes a chain reaction of events-the baby gets water splashed right in the face, he goes spastic and a flailing arm clocks the 2 year old right in the nose, and the piercing screams from both of them are all too much for any human to comprehend. The older one is completely oblivious to the destruction of peace she caused, and this in itself is enough to make your blood boil.
After trying unsuccessfully to get out of the pool from the ledge, you must make the distance to the ladder carrying two crying children...because of course the ladder is on the other side of the pool. You finally make it back to your scorching hot spot, and try ineffectively to unfold two towels for the two crying babies. You must first set one down (a kid), which is certainly not helping you at all, since this was about the worst thing you could have done to the child in his eyes.
Praise the lord, you finally get them calmed down! The three of you are sitting peacefully and quietly on the grass, wrapped up in towels (they also smell, because they sat in your washing machine for too many days). It just might turn out to be a good day...
The older ones come up looking for a snack (but due to the hectic morning you forgot to include them in your checklist.) You send them back into the pool after telling them you'll make lunch when you get home. The girls are swimming, and the boys are chillin', towels off, and soaking up the warm sun.
And then....here it comes again...the older ones return, soaking wet, with no regards to anyone. The excess water drips all over the younger ones, and peace is no more. Wailing begins again, unhappiness is in the air. You've had enough. It's time to go home. You tell the older ones to get their towels and get dressed. This is of course met by disapproving moaning. The look you throw their way silences them immediately, and they grudgingly get their towels. The sloth-like movement from them only irritates you more. You've officially ran out of patience. You tell them you'll meet them at the car, and if they're not there by the time you have the boys loaded, they'll be walking home. This gets them moving just a bit faster, since they probably wouldn't be able to find their way home if they had too.
You get everyone to the car, and realize in your haste to leave, you left the sunscreen there. Too bad, there's no way you're going back for sunscreen. The younger two have quit crying, and the older two are too mad to say anything. Well, at least it's quiet.
This was definitely not a good day...where's my drink?
You make the plan the evening before, when all the kids are in bed. (Consequently, the house is actually quiet, so you THINK you are thinking clearly.) You wake up with a fresh start, brew your necessary coffee, and announce to the kids your ingenious plan. Your broadcast is greeted with whoppings of joy. The thunder of feet hitting the kitchen tile from hoping up and down should have been an inclination of what your outing would hold...
You feed the troops breakfast (one oatmeal, one cereal, the other two poptarts- because you're feeling generous in catering to them on this fine morning-hey, it's going to be a good day!) You go upstairs to get your swimming suit on...of course what should only take 1 minute turns into 10 because every suit you try on isn't covering the flab that seems to have enlarged extensively from the last swim suit season. 5 different swimming suits strewn on the floor later and one mismatched swimming suit on, you head back downstairs to crack the whip and make sure the kids get their things ready.
The baby has poptart in his hair, the older ones are making a high pitched sound they call singing, and the 2 year old has opened a bag of chips that you already told him he couldn't have. Deep breath, it's still going to be a good day.
Wash the baby's head with the smelly rag that's been in the sink for a few days (the only one you can find) , bark orders to the older ones "get on your suit now if you want to go!", and walk back up the dreadful stairs to get sunscreen lotion. You make the hike downstairs once again, and round up the two younger kids. The baby doesn't want sunscreen on, and the 2 year old wants to put it on himself. Argh....
Okay, everyone's sun screened up, now you have to go back upstairs to get towels (because it's still too early for the coffee to have performed it's duty so you forgot to bring them down when you got the sunscreen.) You make it down the hideous flight of stairs yet again, and then turn right back around-you forgot the younger two's swimming suits. You take the escalation of stairs one more time. Grab the swimming suits, and do a quick look around to make sure you didn't forget anything this time. Should be good to go.
The pool is close enough to walk, but you're not that stupid. You load everyone in the car, grab the bag of towels and sunscreen, and hop in yourself. Still might turn out to be a good day.
You get to the pool, everyone tumbles out of the car, and you grab the towel bag. By this time, it's a thousand degrees outside, and already 10:30 a.m. Finding a prime location to park it has now become nothing but an unlikely desire. Crappy location status confirmed, you plop down on the far corner, miles away from the actuall pool. There is absolutely zero shade in the vicinity. Probably won't be a good day.
It's swim time! Everyone gets in the pool and all seems well. The baby loves splashing, the older kids are having a ball, and the 2 year old may actually enjoy swimming once he let's go of the fist of your hair he's holding onto (apparently the water wings don't comfort him.)
Then, all hell breaks loose. The older one makes a huge spash, which in turn causes a chain reaction of events-the baby gets water splashed right in the face, he goes spastic and a flailing arm clocks the 2 year old right in the nose, and the piercing screams from both of them are all too much for any human to comprehend. The older one is completely oblivious to the destruction of peace she caused, and this in itself is enough to make your blood boil.
After trying unsuccessfully to get out of the pool from the ledge, you must make the distance to the ladder carrying two crying children...because of course the ladder is on the other side of the pool. You finally make it back to your scorching hot spot, and try ineffectively to unfold two towels for the two crying babies. You must first set one down (a kid), which is certainly not helping you at all, since this was about the worst thing you could have done to the child in his eyes.
Praise the lord, you finally get them calmed down! The three of you are sitting peacefully and quietly on the grass, wrapped up in towels (they also smell, because they sat in your washing machine for too many days). It just might turn out to be a good day...
The older ones come up looking for a snack (but due to the hectic morning you forgot to include them in your checklist.) You send them back into the pool after telling them you'll make lunch when you get home. The girls are swimming, and the boys are chillin', towels off, and soaking up the warm sun.
And then....here it comes again...the older ones return, soaking wet, with no regards to anyone. The excess water drips all over the younger ones, and peace is no more. Wailing begins again, unhappiness is in the air. You've had enough. It's time to go home. You tell the older ones to get their towels and get dressed. This is of course met by disapproving moaning. The look you throw their way silences them immediately, and they grudgingly get their towels. The sloth-like movement from them only irritates you more. You've officially ran out of patience. You tell them you'll meet them at the car, and if they're not there by the time you have the boys loaded, they'll be walking home. This gets them moving just a bit faster, since they probably wouldn't be able to find their way home if they had too.
You get everyone to the car, and realize in your haste to leave, you left the sunscreen there. Too bad, there's no way you're going back for sunscreen. The younger two have quit crying, and the older two are too mad to say anything. Well, at least it's quiet.
This was definitely not a good day...where's my drink?
No comments:
Post a Comment