Well, it's official. Our routine, that is. We've settled into a nice little schedule whilst on va-cay (side note: I really detest when people call it a va-cay. It's on my "list" right next to moist, supper, and anything ending in -licious. FYI.)
So, our rough, rough routine is McDonald's breakfast (I know, whatever, judgy wudgy was a bear), beach in the morning, lunch, nap time, and pool time. We loves us some pool time.
Shelley and I are power tanners. Always have been, always will be. We take the 1 - 3 pm time slot very seriously. Shelley's actually on a business call right now and I'm typing during our peak tanning hours. I could kill her for this, but it is what it is.
Yesterday, we went and got our power tan on during Lucy's nap knowing full good and well that once Lucy joined us at the pool, power tanning would be a thing of the past, something we discuss in memoriam ..."remember how great tanning was?" God love it.
And yeah, we were right. She wanted none stop attention in the pool. And the thing with Lucy is, well. On dry land, you might call a kid a "runner". They run away from you constantly. That's not Lucy. Except in a pool. Then she's a runner because "I can swim. I real good at it. I do it all da'time."
I'll poke a few holes in her argument:
1. You can shimmy in the water with a flotation device keeping you alive. Without, you sink to the bottom like a lead weight.
2. You are not real good at it. Michael Phelps is real good at it. I'll give you a point for being good at it for your age, but babe, you gotta add the qualifier to the end of that statement.
3. You do it enough. 60 minutes worth of lessons a week does not count as all da'time. With our Seattle summer, you've gone swimming a whole 3 other times outside of lessons.
She literally cannot be left alone anywhere near water. Not that other children should be, but at least most other children have a healthy fear of the water. Lucy cannon balled into the pool at her first swim lesson. That was our first clue.
So, Bubba bought her a floaty device to take with to Hawaii to help with her swim in the pool and keep things relatively safe.
We call it the monster.
You can decide if I'm talking about Lucy or the floaty.
She's big at jumping in.
Swimming on her back.
(I think it looks like Fe is playing "light as a feather, stiff as a board" with her - just my opinion).
And loves general goofing around and "swimming" (term used loosely) to the three of us.
I'd had about enough and (win) it's not my kid, so I got to go back and lay down for another round of power tanning. It was glorious. I'm almost through with The Help (amazing) and was getting my chocolate covered raisin on when Lucy came out of the pool and said she needed me because she wanted to go in the deep end.
That might sound weird to you. I mean, why can't Shelley take her to the deep end? It sounded, mmm, 'bout right to me.
Shelley can swim. She can. But we'll use the term loosely as well with her. Apparently, like mother like daughter, except Shelley knows her limitations and abides by them. Lucy. Not so much.
Shelley is just not a fan of any part of the pool where she can't touch the bottom. Staying afloat is not one of her strong suits in life. And, add in the fact that she needs to be keeping Lucy afloat... Well, she needed reinforcements and she needed them from someone who can swim. And I can. I know. I'm like an onion. Layer by layer, you're getting to know me. I'm actually pretty solid at swimming.
So, Shelley held on to Lucy, and I held on to Shelley.
Then I shoved her under because she's vulnerable in the pool. On dry land, she dwarfs me. In a pool, I can take her. So I did. Hands. Tied.
Once we'd had enough, I found that I'd lost both my towel and my chair to this little nugget:
Digging for cheetos and trying to find the "right one". Like she only eats just one. You mean the right one for that moment in time.
Check out those prune feet?
That's when you know you've had a great day in Hawaii.
OR when you're so tired, holding Coat isn't enough.
You need to wear him if you're going to get by.