August

August is almost over, and what a month it’s been. I only had one class for most of the month, and while it was a reasonable amount of work, I was still able to enjoy much of the summer.

The Girl went to B.C. (or A.B.C., as she calls it) for 10 whole days. I didn’t want her to go — mostly for selfish reasons. I’d never been away from her for that long, and I wonder if she realized how long “10 sleeps” would really be. She drives me nuts most days, but when she was gone, I was distraught. I needed the break. But really, just.. distraught. I called her every day, and I know she had a great vacation. She came back with a fresh new haircut and was back to driving me nuts within a couple days

There is one more sleep til Kindergarten. One more. We’ve been counting down. The supplies are ready to go. We have our markers and pencils and glue sticks and paint shirt. We have a backpack and lunch kit and crayons and new shoes. The Girl and I went shopping for school clothes (she doesn’t need them, but it IS the first day of Kindergarten). Dresses were hard to find. All I could see in the 4 – 5 stores we went to were “sweater dresses” and leggings. Really? Cause I think I wore that on MY first day of Kindergarten in 1984. Perhaps I should have saved my lime green and pink track suit from Grade 3.

The Boy is getting bigger. It’s amazing how they do that. He’s almost 8 months old now. Not crawling, but sitting quite well. He doesn’t have any teeth yet, but the way he gums anything within reach.. they should start coming any day now. We are experimenting with more finger foods.

I picked up my textbooks for the fall semester. I managed to find them all used, which meant they were cheaper, and a little broken in, so I don’t need to feel guilty about the odd scratch or singe marks when I inevitably set fire to them halfway through the course. When I brought them all to the cashier at the bookstore, she announced my total: “Three hundred and eighty-four dollars and seventeen cents.” I expect that much, but it blows me away every time. Three hundred and eighty-four dollars and seventeen cents for USED books? That I’m probably not going to read? I was grumbling inside. Then she said, “Would you like to purchase a bag to put them in for sixty-nine cents?”

Now, for three hundred and eighty-four dollars and seventeen cents.. for USED books, a bag should be included. No? For three hundred and eighty-four dollars and seventeen cents for USED books, she should be coming to scrub my bathroom with a toothbrush three times a week for a year.

“No. No, thank you.” I loaded them into the bottom of the stroller — which almost collapsed from the weight — and went off to purchase my plastic parking pass for two hundred and fifty dollars and twenty-six cents. At least I’ll be using that.

After the car was loaded, I rummaged through the pile of books for my physics lab manual. I’ve been so worried about this class, and have actually arranged my last few semesters so that I can take it twice, if need be. A defeatist attitude, perhaps. I flipped it open — gingerly at first, then like a 12 year old with a new comic book.

I could not believe the words that came out of my mouth: “Well, that doesn’t look SO bad.. ” Did I really say that?

 

The next 100 days.. will be the death of me.

Corn bran.

The Boy is at a fun age food-wise. At almost 8 months old, he’s tried most fruits and vegetables, a few meats, and we’ve begin dabbling in finger foods and different textures.

And wasn’t it cute when I popped a piece of corn bran cereal in his mouth, and he made a funny face. And wasn’t it cute as he sucked it down to mush before swallowing and opening his little mouth for more.. And wasn’t it adorable how feeding him the next four or five pieces led to a realization that even a small amount of bran cereal to a baby that small would be akin to an average-sized woman injesting A BOX of laxatives.

And wasn’t it ADRORABLE when the house smelled like a sewage plant explosion for two days in one of the hottest weeks of the year.

Lesson learned.. lesson learned.

Tempting Fate

Children certainly don’t come with a manual, and although most of us have good intentions when it comes to parenting, sometimes mistakes are made. Big mistakes.

Out of laziness or poor planning or apathy, The Girl watches too much tv. Sometimes her socks don’t match. A can of frosting for lunch is not necessarily out of the question, and a teeth-brushing schedule is sketchy at best.

She always always sits in a carseat with a buckled seatbelt. She always always has sunscreen and a hat on on sunny days. She almost always goes to bed at 8pm sharp, always wears a helmet when riding her bike, and never ever EVER lest-Mommy-wrings-your-neck runs on the road.

Last weekend, we were at the pool. And I’ll admit, I got lazy.

She had been up late the night before. It was my sister’s wedding after all, and the kids were in the pool much of the evening. The Girl can’t swim. She’s been in swimming lessons off and on since she was 7 months old, and took the Sea Turtle level no less than four times before passing and moving on to Salamander (which she failed). I don’t like to push her at sports or dancing or other activities, but I feel that swimming is a life skill, and she needs to learn how to do it, whatever her pace is. She sees no correlation between the lessons at the public pool and swimming in her aunt’s backyard.

At any rate, late in the evening the night before, there were maybe 50 people standing around the pool or swimming in it. She at first clung only to the stairs, but got a little more daring this year, and ventures into the deep (8 feet or so) end while on a floating chair. I try to make sure she’s wearing water wings or SOMEthing inflatable. And really, she should not have been out of MY arm’s reach.

The next day, we were back at the pool. There were 10 of us or so sitting poolside, eating, cannonballing, chatting. Family from out of town were set to return home in a few hours, and it was just a nice, lazy afternoon. The Girl spent much of it in the pool, floating along on her chair. I decided to take The Boy in the pool. I slathered him in sunscreen, put on his trunks and his hat, and made my way down the stairs on the inside of the pool with the baby on my hip. It took me a minute to realize what was going on. She was there, her toes barely scraping across the pool bottom. Her left arm was stretched out, and her face, slowly going under the water, was panicked. “Mommy, help me.”

And The Girl almost drowned.

It was so sudden. So… silent. She had tried to get out of her floating chair, and somehow fell to where the pool floor was just a little too deep for her. It seemed like hours between the time I saw her grasping for me and the time I yanked her out by one arm until she was well above the water.

The look on her face will haunt me for some time I’m sure. I think about what would have happened.. if I hadn’t happened to be RIGHT there. It occured to me that although I am a fairly good and confident swimmer, I wouldn’t have heard her scream. In fact, there were many good swimmers sitting by the pool.. a few were physically in the water with her.. and yet.. she was MY responsibility. Not theirs. We were all lazily watching her. A glance at the water now and then. But how long would it have been before she hit the bottom of the pool? Eight seconds? Three? And then what? What if she’d died? What would the rest of the day have been like? The next day..?

I had only a few days prior been reading how the week before was Drowning Prevention week. A person — even a good swimmer — can drown in an inch of water. And there I was, stupid as ever, being so careless with someone so precious.

I bought lifejackets. One for The Girl, and one for The Boy. They will never, ever be in water without one. And even then, lifejackets are not substitutes for supervision. It’s terrible that it took a scare for me to realize my own stupidity, but I’m thankful for it, as now I know that laziness is best served with mismatched socks and cans of frosting, and should be kept far away from the pool where children are concerned.