A Day at the Pool

The single best thing about resuming my life is regaining the ability to share in the joy of others. I started this post watching the kids of the township, including my own, frolic in the fabulous public pool at the municipal park. So far this summer, physically, I haven’t reached the point that I’m ready to join them, but I know it won’t be long. My energy level increases daily. For now, I’m content to watch my baby girl dive fearlessly into the deep end only to jump back out to goad my son into doing the same.

Good, clean summer fun, the type kids reminisce about far into adulthood. This summer is special in that it’s the first in two years that we won’t be retreating to a motel at fun’s end. We’ll be going home. The kids will make themselves sandwiches and run down stairs to the family room to catch a little Cartoon Network before we run over to karate class. They’ll be testing for the next rank in less than two weeks and I know they’ll be ready. We practice almost daily. Yes, occasionally I hear grumbling and see little screwed up faces, but that ain’t no thang to me.

And the fun doesn’t stop at karate — I’m easing them back into school work as well. Half hour here, half hour there. A little math, a little composition writing, arts and crafts when time permits and a story before lights out. Life lessons whenever applicable. Got ’em cooking and cleaning with me, too. Lots of ground to cover around here, but we’re getting it in.

I have so missed having this level of interaction with them. It wears me out, but if I gotta wind up absolutely consumed by day’s end, this is how I want it to happen. Helping them to develop is absolutely life affirming. Few things in my experience have given me this kind of satisfaction.

Now, it’s time to kick back and catch a flick — or at least part of one. After running behind these two characters all day, it’s a lock I’ll be asleep before I can close the screen on this laptop. The next thing I know, four tiny feet will be thundering down the stairs, I’ll open my eyes to the light of that pesky July sun filtering in through the window and it’ll be time to run myself ragged again. As I used to hear the gray beards say when I was my kids’ age, great day in the morning.