Last night we went swimming.
Swimming is not a normal Thursday activity for us, I mean, I am a working mom and not a miracle worker and our time is precious in the evenings and I am tired, oh so tired. All the time. But I had a two-fold reason for choosing to go last night: 1) I needed to get some swimming yardage in for Ironman March and I knew I would not want to do it Friday night. Also, the big gym has a great childcare area where the kids can run around and play basketball with other kids, and they always have fun.
2) My kids really LOVE LOVE LOVE to swim and they were looking forward to it because I had mentioned it to them (I am a sucker like that).
The worst part about going swimming in the indoor pool in the wintertime with two kiddos by yourself are the transitions. Getting everything packed to go (and remembering what to pack), getting them changed out of their street clothes and into swimsuit, and the worst, the most difficult, is getting them undressed from swimsuits, in the shower, hair washed, into pajamas and into the car…it is miserable. So many times we have all ended up in tears with this and I have felt like a horrible failure as a mother. So many times I have claimed “NEVER AGAIN” but I go back to it (glutton for punishment). We really love the pool, and I love doing active things with my kids that do not involve the iPad or Disney Junior. I want them to remember that while I was strict and made them eat their veggies, I was also fun and carefree and loved being with them.
I think this is the 12th time I have taken them swimming this winter and I finally have some semblance of a method to follow. Yesterday’s transitions were the best yet. I was proud of myself and proud of them. There were no tears and I even remembered to pack all the essentials…you know, clean underwear, diapers, and fresh pajamas (for all of us J).
We celebrated with Wendy’s for dinner, but this happened before we even made it home.