Pool Without Swim Diapers

I opened the swim bag and pulled out W’s swimsuit, hat and…..nothing else. I had given the task of packing W’s things to my very literal 8 year old.

As the wave of fury and frustration left me crying, I was too upset to recognize my mistake. Thankfully, the cheerful helper was not nearby to witness my tears.

Fast forward through the decision to stay, and to NOT shell out the exorbitant “forgetful” fee, and one and a half hours later W and I have found some good rhythms for surviving the heat.

Walking past the big kids splashing the sidewalk was the perfect start, followed by melted strawberry popsicles pushed out through the bag. W particularly enjoyed sucking on the popsicle stick.

Scoring the big umbrella helped, and thankfully he is young enough to be content exploring close to the chairs and playing with toys on the towel.