The girls and I finally arrive at the pool. We walk onto the pool deck and find a place to put down our bag-o-crap. After stripping off our cover-ups, we're left with 30 minutes to actually "swim". We leave the safety of the shade and venture out into the pool. One squeals in delight while running to the baby slide and the other is heading in the opposite direction. I scan the pool for the friends we're meeting.
That's when it begins, the mommy competition. We all do it. Take sideways glances at the other mothers in the pool, judging each other. Who is the hottest mommy? Whose kid is the cutest? Which kid swims the best? Whose kid behaves the best? We gotta be tan, but not too tan. Kids gotta be pale, but not too pale. You want to have cute hair and the right amount of make up on, without looking like you fixed your hair and put make up on. Who puts make up on to go to the pool anyway!?!
Emmy finds her buddy to play with. I'm relieved I have someone over the age of 4 to talk to. Gotta love playdates at the pool! They take turns being brave and jumping off the wall while we gossip. Brin actually manages to climb up and, with help, step back into the pool. She giggles with pride at herself achieving this new trick. Emmy on the other hand decides that since Brin holds hands to jump off the wall, she doesn't need to anymore. She's a "big girl, Mama".
My friend and I fondly remember a time without kids as we look at the high school and college girls laying out in the zero-entry area, secretly hoping our 3 year olds will run past and splash the crap out of them. Their hair needs to get wet. They're so cute, they're making the rest of us feel bad! Oh, and that mom over there... What, the one with 10% body fat and can't hold up a size 00 pant? The one that just walked off the Miss Fitness American stage? Those aren't her kids. They CAN'T be. Obviously she's babysitting for her neighbor!
In the meantime, that cute little bikini Emmy loves so much slides up into her armpits. While reminding her to "cover your boo-boos", she starts doing the potty-dance. Uh-oh, better make a break for it. We take off for the restrooms! Brin is deeply upset that I've snatched her out of the water and put her on my hip. We take off running through the zero-entry to get there, accidentally splashing those poor girls laying out. We make it just in time but it smells like the group before us didn't. We head back out to meet our friends.
That's when it begins, the mommy competition. We all do it. Take sideways glances at the other mothers in the pool, judging each other. Who is the hottest mommy? Whose kid is the cutest? Which kid swims the best? Whose kid behaves the best? We gotta be tan, but not too tan. Kids gotta be pale, but not too pale. You want to have cute hair and the right amount of make up on, without looking like you fixed your hair and put make up on. Who puts make up on to go to the pool anyway!?!
Emmy finds her buddy to play with. I'm relieved I have someone over the age of 4 to talk to. Gotta love playdates at the pool! They take turns being brave and jumping off the wall while we gossip. Brin actually manages to climb up and, with help, step back into the pool. She giggles with pride at herself achieving this new trick. Emmy on the other hand decides that since Brin holds hands to jump off the wall, she doesn't need to anymore. She's a "big girl, Mama".
My friend and I fondly remember a time without kids as we look at the high school and college girls laying out in the zero-entry area, secretly hoping our 3 year olds will run past and splash the crap out of them. Their hair needs to get wet. They're so cute, they're making the rest of us feel bad! Oh, and that mom over there... What, the one with 10% body fat and can't hold up a size 00 pant? The one that just walked off the Miss Fitness American stage? Those aren't her kids. They CAN'T be. Obviously she's babysitting for her neighbor!
In the meantime, that cute little bikini Emmy loves so much slides up into her armpits. While reminding her to "cover your boo-boos", she starts doing the potty-dance. Uh-oh, better make a break for it. We take off for the restrooms! Brin is deeply upset that I've snatched her out of the water and put her on my hip. We take off running through the zero-entry to get there, accidentally splashing those poor girls laying out. We make it just in time but it smells like the group before us didn't. We head back out to meet our friends.
The kids play, and we talk just long enough for the chlorine to kill whatever bacteria we picked up on our feet while in the bathroom. Then we attempt to leave with very cranky and tired girls. Of course, we decide we're the best mommies here. We've won every competition mentioned earlier. Oh, those dents on the back of my thighs? That's not cellulite, those are marks from the patio chair I sat on a week ago... I sure wish they'd go away!
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