The Pool

Is there anything more iconic than the public pool to represent what summer means to a kid? I remember sewing my Ash Pool pass onto my blue and purple swimsuit when I was a girl, riding my bike with my friends and spending the entire day, rain or shine, pool side. I remember the laffy taffys and the sweet tart pops purchased at the concession stand, the deep pool, the diving board, the kids.

My girls are no different. If I allowed them they would go every single day to the pool. And is there really a better place to be when it's 100+ degrees outside? After all, it's free, they get a lot of exercise, they gain confidence in the water, and they while away the hours they would have otherwise spent at home fighting.

Bela is a strong swimmer who is now learning to dive head first into the 8 foot pool. Mae has become a real swimmer herself this summer, diving under the water, jumping in from the side to the deep end, swimming on her back, somersaulting, braving her way down the water slide.

I am so proud of my girls, their pool-water bleached hair, their tans, their strength, their pure joy as they splash through the water and gain self confidence by leaps and bounds.

But here's the thing. I hate the pool.

I am so sick of the pool. In June, when the temperatures first soared a little and our house was hotter than a bread proofer and just as humid, I reveled in the cool waters of Pulaski Pool. But now...

I've been hit in the head too many times with a rubber ball (who the heck lets these kids bring toys into a crowded public pool?). I've been splashed with cold water, had someone else's hair stuck to my arms, dodged too many band-aids, and been pushed aside by way too many teenagers. And to boot, I've lost sight of my nether-regions and there is nothing more uncomfortable than strolling the pool deck in a bikini when the only part of me I can see is my growing belly. I have no idea what the rest of me is doing.

And yet I go. If I don't have to get in, I no longer do. If there is a grandma, a friend, or a reasonably responsible looking adult within three feet of pool depth of my children, I sit on the edge. Chris hates the pool more than I do, so there has been no relief.

The girls have only a couple of days left of summer camp, and then the home-stretch towards school. This is it for them, August. Their pool time is running short, and I'm thanking my lucky stars that the park district shuts them all down come September.

*Note that in the image above I have taken the photo from the safety of my seat, on the side of the pool.