Just Add Water

This weekend it was hotter than any number of things: blazes, disreputable women in churches, subtropical locations... we were sweating any number of body parts off, and praising the fact that homes in Northern VA seem to come standard with central air conditioning, as Sunday was chore day and we were expecting guests that evening. In spite of the central a/c, we were still rather warm and looking for fun ways to cool off post-chores.

I was also praising my foresight for having bought a small blue plastic tub that was originally intended for washing dogs. Since I don't bathe our dog for fear of wreaking havoc on her poor fragile psyche (I'm happy to pay a pro for that service), we filled it up for the short guy and put in some sand toys originally intended for the grandparents' house on the Eastern Shore.

It's been about a year since we've filled a paddling pool. We had one for our last summer in Chicago, which Ben loved to sit in on those hot days just before we moved east. At the time, he was not yet walking, and so all he did was sit in it. But he loved it. The kid has a natural affinity for water. In addition to loving his swimming lessons at the community center, he's the kind of kid who can find a puddle in a desert. Ben loves to splash.

So we let him. It was clothing-optional day for the short ones, which in our house includes both Ben and the dog (who doesn't like clothes anyway and had an unfortunate tendency to eat her winter coats that I so lovingly knitted in Chicago). Stripped down, he had a grand old time splashing and playing, reminding me that there are some times when being at home really is better than going somewhere fancy. Beers in hand, sitting on the lounge chairs with our feet in the pool, Nate and I got in some good-quality relaxation time on our shady patio as well. While I relaxed, Ben and Phoebe played drinking games. The boy also spent quality time trying to splash out all the water while the dog beat a hasty retreat to the far corner of our patio and looked on nervously.

"Hey Phoebe, I bet you can't drink the whole pool first!"

Ben, in a developmentally appropriate burst of creativity, decided to invent a new game that I call Daddy Fetch. Slowly, methodically, and with a big grin, each and every toy in his pool was tossed out onto the deck. After Ben found himself toy-less he looked up at me, looked at Nate, and then very happily pointed to his toys and said, "Dada!" I'm proud of him for realizing that Nate was the better candidate for this game, as he's far nicer and blessed with significantly more patience than I. Two rounds were played, and Ben won as Nate, realizing the futility of his efforts, went back into the house to fold the last bit of laundry.

Dump trucks make good pool toys too.

It's a simple thing, really, to toss a kid into a small pool of water. We do it almost every day in the bathtub, but it's different when you can do it outside. It's such a simple thing, really, but for me, summer memories tend to be filled with water, and not just because I spent most of my summers in a lake house in Maine. In addition to swimming in Moose Pond, I have great hazy memories of long summer afternoons playing with friends' slip & slides and playing Marco-Polo in community swimming pools, sprinkler runs and even simply dancing in the rain on a back deck. It was intensely gratifying to realize how easy it is to help my own baby begin to create those experiences and memories. And I know there will be more splashing and playing with water in the weeks and years to come.