I enjoyed my first full week of summer with my fellas very much!
I usually give summer a hard time.
There’s the heat.
The humidity.
The stupid flying, stinging, insects.
Not to mention the humidity.
But one thing I love about summer is the extra sleep it affords.
I drop-kicked the alarm clock out in the front yard about nineteen minutes after I picked Stevie up on his last day of school and it hasn’t been seen or heard from since then.
We’ve had a couple of playdates because hello? Remember the whole From Inmates To Playdates thing? We love playdates around here. Especially indoor, air conditioned playdates.
The boys are taking (indoor!) swimming lessons and when I signed them up, I was careful to choose a class that wouldn’t conflict with anything else in our schedule.
Basically that means I didn’t want to get my lazy butt out of bed before 9:00 am, so I picked the 11:15 am class.
Priorities, people.
I was a bit apprehensive about the swimming lessons because while my boys love to frolic in the pool, they are not big fans of “going under” or getting water in their eyes. Swimming lessons could have been a big freakin’ mistake. McDaddy shared a story with them the night before lessons about a little boy named Daddy who had a mommy named grandma, who had swimming lessons, but was too scared to actually learn to swim. Then, I added my four cents about bravery, and the cost of the lessons, a threat that might or might not have included the loss of certain electronic devices for not trying their hardest, as well as a bribe for an “Iron Man Mask” IF they are able to actually swim at the end of their lessons.
Upon arriving at the University of Charleston for swim lessons, we pause before getting out of the van. We hold hands, sing “Kum Ba Yah” and then we pray that God will help them to be brave and safe in the water.
While I am not sure they will actually learn to swim, I am pleased to report that they are giving it their all and actually trying to learn. I can’t help but think of my boyfriend, Michael Phelps, and how his mama must have felt as she sat on the sidelines and watched him take his first lessons in the pool. Do you think she had any idea at the time that he’d be breaking records and taking names in the 2008 Summer Olympics? I’m not clinging to the hope that my boys will be Olympic Swimmers some day, but by golly, if they do, I will say the $108.00 (after coupon) was totally worth it. They have seven more lessons, so we’ll see what happens.
McDaddy is working out of town for part of the week, so I’ve planned and schemed to find me and the boys some fun things to do to insure that I won’t be sitting in a fetal position in the corner rocking back and forth answering for the eleventh time why it is that they can’t play the Wii or watch Tom and Jerry the whole entire day. They do enjoy playing outside but seriously, in the heat of the day in the hills of West Virginia, it’s approximately 97 degrees with about 285% humidity, so playing outside is kept to a minimum until the sun goes down.
The other thing I’ll be busying myself with this week is packing.
It seems like all I’ve done the past month is packing, washing clothes to pack, or unpacking. I’m not necessarily complaining, because I don’t complain. I’m just merely making a statement.
I just got the laundry caught up after our gloriously fun, but hot quick weekend in Florida for the wedding, and now, I”m at it again.
This time, I’m packing for a camping trip. The McFamily will accompany 10 other families from our church and we’ll spend four days eating, fellowshipping, laughing, fishing, boating, eating, and eating. It is a logistical nightmare for the ones who organize the camping spots and the food which is planned several weeks ahead of time. We eat breakfasts and dinners together and spend the other hours of the day deciding who will go on the boat, who will fish and who will stay back with the nonboating, nonfishing kids. I am so thankful for our church family. I’m looking forward to a short (hopefully not too hot!) sweet camping trip.
Oh, and I guess since this is Monday, I should let you know that it certainly wasn’t me came home from church last night and fixed pancakes for my hungry little fellas because anyone with half a brain knows that eating pancakes slathered in butter and syrup at 9:30 pm is never a good idea.
And it also wasn’t me who squealed like a little girl when this thing hopped across my foot on our front porch late one evening last week.
It also wasn’t me who walked three miles out of the way to get into my house and get my camera.
And before you ask, it was not me who crouched down like she was a professional photographer for National Geographic just to snap a picture of the nasty little sucker for the blog. Nope. Not me. Not scared. At all.
And since I’m confessing all the things that I didn’t do, it is not me who visits Google weekly to find out proper spellings of words like Kum Ba Yah, and crouched for the blog.
Not me. No way.
Have yourselves a lovely Monday. I plan to enjoy mine fully, in between the swimming lessons, the humidity, the laundry and whathaveyou.
This post is linked to Not Me! Monday over at MckMama‘s place.
{ 3 comments }
I was thinking about putting Drama Queen in swim classes but it was like overnight it clicked in her head. And I am horrible mother and bribed her years ago to put her head under with the promise that the dollar’s worth of shiny quarters would be hers if she got them. Nothing like money to motivate a child.
I feel you on the not going outside. I am not an outside person to begin with and especially not when it is so humid you could slice the air with a knife.
And I so would not have squealed and done a weird dance either had that thing gone across my foot.
Felicia´s last [type] ..Getting To Know You Sunday
Ahem!…..I just happen to know that little boy named Daddy and his mom named Grandma who was too scared to learn to swim during the private — I said private — swim lessons at Ormond Beach, FL, while on vacation, which cost, I’m sure, more than it was worth, seeing that Grandma didn’t learn to swim at that year. HOWEVER, in defense of Grandma – who can now swim – thank you very much – the water in that pool was colder than a wet frog’s patute, the instructor was a 20-something life guard, who was cuter than a bug’s ear to that 8- or 9-year old gal named Grandma (therefore, a major distraction), and there was a requirement that the face must be submerged in said freezing water – which was NOT on Grandma’s agenda on any of those 3 days that she was expected to progress to the point of actually staying on the surface of the water while kicking skinny legs and flailing skinny arms about. But, she did try. Yes, Sir, try she did. The end result of that year was her dad buying a full-fledged “big ole” (that’s a word) honkin’, puffy, bright orange life jacket that she gladly wore in the hotel pool so her parents AND she would have peace of mind that she would not sink to the bottom of said pool. After that year of misery, however, she learned to swim on her own (with a nose plug) – one stroke at a time. She just decided to not be scared – and that was that. While she is not on the olympic team by any stretch of the imagination, she can get across the pool without drowning. Yay, Grandma!!!
The humidity is out of control here as well. Have a great week!
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