I'm loving August. Everyone wants to socialize- birthday parties, BBQs, campfires, brunches and lunch; the invitations have been have been popping up like my long forgotten dahlias.
We also have a daily commitment to socialize at our local swimming pool, as the little ones started swimming lessons this week. I must say though, we have very little time to spend chatting with the other parents. Nick and I visit with the other moms and dads until the lessons start and then we have to get into the pool with a dozen or so 4-7 year olds. Our kids are the only two toddlers, so they have a class all to themselves ( private lessons? For $50? We must have ripped someone off here...) However, we are also the only parents required to get in the pool with their kids; until the kids are four years old, a parent must be present in the pool too. So essentially, I'll be getting swimming lessons for free too.
Side Note: I'm screwed if our lessons ever move down into the deep end. I will die 10 different deaths from humiliation if an eight year old has to rescue my "plump" ass from drowning. I will go so far as to wear floaties to prevent this...I can borrow Dryden's "Sponge Bob" ones.
I had major hang ups about wearing a bathing suit. My regular ones don't fit so great on account of my inflated belly and the maternity ones I bought-although pretty- do not fit well either. Out of the pool they look fine. As soon as I get in the water, the top tends to float up around me so that I look like an enormous jellyfish ready to sting and paralyze someone's kid. I talked myself out of acting like a jackass about the whole situation. "Ok Rachel- you're pregnant and fat. You cannot go swimming in jeans and a hoodie. All the other moms will be wearing bathing suits too. Get over it." And then we show up- and I am the only friggin' mom that needs to get in the pool. Figures. I am still resisting the jeans and campus crew hoodie, but I do wear a tank top now. No need to frighten small children out of the water...
I've been feeling really well this week- the morning sickness may or may not have finally buggered off. I had slightly more energy than usual, so I wasted no time and took advantage. I finally started the much hated job of packing. { kindly insert very sad violin music to the background. } Nick's grandparents, whom we bought our next house from, moved into a much smaller apartment- they have no room for the majority of their lifetime's worth of stuff. In a moment of magnanimous generosity (idiocy) I volunteered to hold a yard sale for them. If I have to invest hours cleaning, pricing and organizing, if I have to get up at 6 am to greet the early birds with a smile, if I have to stand out in the sun and dicker over $0.25 for an entire weekend, then I'm going to get rid of as much crap as I possibly can. I've been gathering stuff from our house to sell also- why pack and move this stuff if we don't even really want it? I also put some calls in to my mom and sisters: send me your junk...er...treasures and I will sell them! I'm kinda excited- I've never had a yard sale before. Actually, that's not entirely true. When I was in high school I helped my sister-in-law Neesha organize one at her house and sat out there with her. No one stopped by! So the next weekend, we set it up at my parents' place (clearly, they have better consumers there) and no one frigging' stopped by again!! My brother loaded the truck and took a trip to the dump. Neesha and I bought ice cream cones and tanned our legs for the rest of the afternoon. We missed out on the salesman of the year award by this much l---l
I'll let you know how it turns out...and how many trips to the dump we have to make when it's all over lol
No comments:
Post a Comment