Just Another Day in Paradise

I took the kids to swim this evening. I didn’t bother to put my own suit on, but instead grabbed a notebook and pen to take notes for some blog posts. It was a long day. I was feeling tired and down, and was looking forward to watching my kids play in the water while I lounged in the shade with my notebook. Fate, however, had other plans.

Brooklyn was playing with her facemask and snorkel. She has no clue how to use a snorkel and I’m just waiting for the day the lifeguard has to rescue her from the water-filled breathing device.  It’s futile trying to teach her how to use it too because she’s five and knows much, much more than I do, so naturally, she’s insulted if I dare to suggest something crazy like keeping the end of the snorkel above the surface of the pool.


Clay kept asking her for a turn with the snorkel. Brooklyn refused to share. Clay came to me with his complaint. I told Brooklyn, “Take turns and share or I’ll give the the snorkel to Clay for the rest of the evening.” She took that very well. I believe her exact words were, “NO!” as she swam away from the edge of the pool. The one time I hadn’t put my suit on, of course, and she was swimming out of my reach. I enlisted Savannah’s help in catching her and bringing her to me poolside. Brooklyn took that very well too. I believe her exact words were, “I hate you!”

At this point, we’re a freak show that has gained the attention of everyone at the pool. All eyes are on the bratty child and the mom who obviously has no clue how to discipline. I wanted to throw her in the car and take her home right then and there so I could grab a beer, but my other five kids were behaving beautifully and they’d waited all day for the chance to go to the pool and cool off. I didn’t want to punish them for her attitude. Instead, I grabbed up Brooklyn who kept making a bee-line back toward the pool and held her. So much for relaxing. So much for writing. So much for staying dry.

I quietly told her to get a grip and calm down. She screamed. I calmly told her she could go back in the pool once she got control of herself. She kicked. I whispered that she needed to take a deep breath and settle down. She tried to bite me.

I knew everyone at the pool was staring at me. I could feel their eyes burning into my back, but I dared not look. I know I might have seen a friendly ‘been there, done that’ look from another parent. But I still wasn’t willing to look up because I knew there was just as good a chance I’d see a disapproving, shake of someone’s head who was judging me as completely incompetent.

I held my ground and kept my screaming, crying child out of the pool. When the pool closed, soon after the whole Brooklyn extravaganza began, Austin, Savannah, Jackson, Lexington, Clayton, and I gathered our things and started walking to our car. Brooklyn, on the other hand, stood there pouting and crabbing. So we left her. We knew she’d give up and follow us. Eventually. But the darn lifeguard, needing to rescue someone, came to her defense. I briefly thought of running to the car and burning rubber, leaving the lifeguard to take Brooklyn home with him, but he seemed like a really nice guy and I didn’t want to do that to him. So we took her home with us and it only took me a quick ten minutes to buckle her writhing body into her car seat!

She’s in bed now. And I’m grabbing that beer.