I'm Pissed, and My Ass Is All Wet!

I nearly burst an aneurysm at the Y today.  I know y'all are sick of hearing about my disdain for the Y.  Up until now, my feelings were more along the lines of indifference than straight-up hostility.  Until now.

Right now, I am sitting at my laptop typing this blog in wet clothing.  My shorts are wet.  My tee is wet.  Hell, even my bra and panties are wet.  Soaked, in fact.  You want to know why!?!?!?  Of course you do, dammit.  At least, that's what you better say.  I'm not in the mood for guessing games or friendly banter.  Sorry.

Why am I soaked, you ask?  I'll tell you why.  Because I had to jump in the freakin' pool to save my drowning daughter!  That's why!  Never mind that there were 40 freakin' lifeguards sitting at various locations around the damn place.  Never mind that there were 4 fat-ass women sitting on the steps (and blocking the "safe" spot that the kids are taught to swim towards when they are in over their heads) gossiping about who gives a flying fuck!  Rude ass people and inept personnel.  That is what I had to deal with today.

Calm down, LB.  Deep breath.  Slowly.  Now from the beginning.

Okay, my kids have swimming lessons every afternoon at 3 p.m.  We try to get there a few minutes early so the kids can swim a bit beforehand.  My son, who has really gotten to be a pretty good swimmer this summer, loves to practice his moves before the teacher gets there.  He's a pleaser type like that. 

Anydammittohellandsonsofbitches, they hit the pool.  Or at least tried to hit the pool.  Like I mentioned before, there were several ladies hovering at the steps in the shallow end where everyone must ENTER and EXIT the pool.  Forget about the fact that my son nearly plowed them down when he jumped in.  They never looked nor did they shut their big traps.  No "oh, excuse us, baby.  Let me get out of your way so you can enjoy this Olympic-size pool too."  No "pardon me; am I in the way, sweetheart?"  Effn' rude skanks!

G, the baby girl, is not so abrupt.  She decided to jump in the pool from the side which is fine as long as she stays in that area near the steps.  She jumped in and swam to the side.  She can touch there, but only on the very tips of her toes.  Five feet further out, and she's in over her head.  Since those rude hookers were hogging the steps in the most shallow part of the pool, baby girl had to swim to the deeper area to get on the other end of the steps.

My daughter did this a few times successfully.  I was fully clothed but kept an eye on her because I knew how quickly the water went from safe to over her head.  I few times she went too far, but quickly stepped back to the more shallow water.  The entire time, those self-absorbed water witches ignored the fact that their asses were making it difficult for the small children to get to the steps.

Sure enough, G got in over her head.  There was no room in the shallow area as the extremely rude mothers apparently required even more valuable space in the shallow end.  She was sinking as their big asses continued to talk.  Bless my baby's heart...she tried.  She kept paddling, but it was too much.  She began to panic as did I. 

The life guard in our area (and I use that term loosely) was totally oblivious.  Apparently he had a hang nail that took priority.  He never moved.  Even as I climbed out of the water soaking wet, his ass stayed glued to his thrown on the lifeguard stand.  Still chewing on his nails.  Just staring.  Like he was watching another boring episode of Saved by the Bell.  Even when I yelled at him "Thanks a lot!  My little girl nearly drowned!" he did not move a muscle.

To make matters worse, his boss who is also my daughter's swim teacher acted like it was no big deal!  To her, I guess it was no big deal.  To a mother watching her daughter sink to the bottom of a pool while no one helps her, it's a big fucking deal!

Thank God tomorrow is the last day of swim lessons.  If Mr. OCD doesn't get me a pool built next year, I'm going to start digging myself.  Let me eff up his backyard...  Bet I'll get results then!

Local Headline - Kid Single-Handly Evacuates the YMCA

Okay, it's already been established that I hate the Y.  Many of the people there are weird, the camp kids are heathens, and there are no little TVs on the elliptical machines!  Call me a snob, but I want to be around my own kind with as few small children as possible.

There is something I love about the Y, though.  They offer swim lessons at an incredibly low, low price.  And the instructors are AWESOME!  They really know their stuff.  Seriously, my five year old can swim in the deep end without assistance.  I'm not talking treading water or dog paddling either.  Swimming.  Front stroke, back stroke, side stroke.  That's pretty freakin' awesome, in my opinion.

So every day, I take the kids to swim lessons.  I drop them off to their swimming instructor and return when the lessons are over.  It's not like I "leave" them, though.  I just walk about 100 feet away and hit the gym. (I'm still pissed about the antiquated elliptical machines, but I make due. Motherhood is about sacrifice after all.)  I'm sure the other moms are appalled that I don't stay to marvel at my children's new skills; but hey, I've got stuff to do!

Now, where was I???  Oh, yea.  At the gym.  Just when I found a good read and started to break a sweat, I hear this little voice.  "Excuse me.  Mama, I puked."

Still not seeing my child, I look around in the direction of that voice.  That very familiar voice.  That voice of an extremely well-mannered five year old.  No, I'm not the only mother in the joint.  But I know that voice.  And I recognize that phrase.  That all too familiar phrase -- "Mama, I puked" phrase.

My son, the puker, struck again.  I knew I should have made him eat lunch at 11:30 a.m. instead of 1:00 p.m.  My kids always eat at 11:30 a.m.  I knew I should have stopped him at 2 grill cheese sandwiches and not forced him to take a few bites of the A-B-Cs & 1-2-3s.  I knew it; I just knew.

Sure enough, he got full as a tick just before we headed off to swim lessons.  Once there, he went to the restroom.  He said he had to poop.  I didn't freak because he always goes to the restroom.  Everywhere we go, E has a bowel movement.  Kinda like a dog marking his territory.  No big deal.  Poop, yell for Mama to wipe his hiney, wash his hands, and then off he goes.  Same routine.  Every day at various locations throughout the Mid-South.

His sister and the other little girl in his class were already swimming when he finally got to the pool.  He seemed fine, and jumped in.  He was not fine.  He puked all over the side of the pool.  He puked all in the inside of the pool. 

A full scale evacuation ensued.  Swimming lessons were canceled.  Swim team practice was canceled.  Granny water aerobics was canceled.  The director announced that the water was "contaminated and not suitable for swimming."

I grabbed the kids and high-tailed it out of there.  Embarrassed and amused at the same time.  This is our life...