It may be time to consider another haircut for Heath. No, no one is inquiring about his big sister abilities; he's just back to peering out from under some over-the-eyebrow bangs when he talks to me. On our way down to the pool this morning, I asked him if he thought we should go this week to get a trim. He wrapped his yellow pool noodle around his neck, casually tossed his lengthy bangs aside with a head shake, and said, No, this is good. His hair fell into place in such a way that it looked a lot like Justin Bieber's hair. Who is Justin Bieber, you might be asking? I really don't have a good answer. He's a teenaged boy. With hair. That looks like Heath's when it's too long. And he sings. And I kind of don't want Heath to remind me of him; I'm actually more comfortable with the "your son looks the kid from The Shining" comments. Redrum, redrum.
Our morning at the pool proved to be exactly what the troops were looking for. Overcast skies kept the heat from broiling down on us at that point, and we were the only people there for the first hour and fifteen minutes of our two hour visit. Heath used his noodle for, maybe, 20 seconds, then abandoned it on the side of the pool when he realized he could cruise along in the shallow end, unassisted. I'm swimming by myself, he gleefully shouted.
Stella. Stella, Stella, Stella. No float. No vest. No noodle. No fear. No problem. She was happy with me holding her, as long as I kept busy with dunking the back of her head in the water, zooming her from one area of the pool to the other, and throwing a ball to let her "swim" to retrieve it. If I didn't keep on the move, she thrashed and wriggled and desperately tried to be set free to swim, preferrably on her own.
I convinced the kids that they needed a break and a snack, so my arms took a brief reprieve in the little pool area. Brief, because Heath managed to find a tennis racket and wanted me to toss the ball to him so he could whack it with the racket. Then it was noon, the sun was beginning to beam down heavily, and everyone was getting hungry and tired, so we trekked our way back home in the wagon. I'm going to miss these days in the winter.
And the beaming-down-sun didn't let up for our afternoon run with our neighbor. Glad I've committed to memory that a water bottle is a very, very good thing.
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