At some point in the early summer, my son developed an irrational ginormous fear of any body of water. Not talking lakes, rivers, or even a big pool here. Instead, think baby pool or bathtub. This obviously wasn’t going to fly; this Mom of the Year simply doesn’t have enough energy at the end of the day to have bath-time be an all-out physical war every night. So my husband and I picked a weekend day, loaded up on the sunscreen and decided we were kicking this phobia to the curb.
I’ll spare you the gory temper-tantrum-filled details. Let’s just say, after an hour or two we had made significant progress. My son would now sit on my lap in the baby pool with both Daddy and his sister in arm’s reach as long as no one splashed (yes, obviously queue up a strong drink at this point–the patience and stamina required here were extreme). In short, since a couple hours prior, he wouldn’t even get within 25 feet of a body of water, this was good news.
I started to relax a smidgen and carefully stretched my legs out (sans splashing, of course) and let my head fall back on the blown-up side of the plastic baby pool. Children screaming, terrified toddler on my lap or not–this was truly the life. I was chillin’ in the water. Don’t question it. Cold hard fact: parenting is just involves a lot of hangin’ poolside…
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