Yesterday was hot. Very hot. Hot, hot, hot. Everyone is doing their best Wicked Witch of the West impersonations. And that's about all they're doing.
It's too hot.
This being CANADA, the heat sets you up but the humidity delivers the knock-out punch.
We had our swimming lessons in the morning, and in a car with no air conditioning*, the drive was less than inspiring. The drive home was especially rough.
So the kids, between fighting matches, hatched a plan.
"Let's go to the lake."
Mama didn't see it happening. We were home for a super fast bite of lunch, and then we needed to get to the library. It was the first day of summer program and we promised the librarian, who's a friend, that we'd be there for the kick-off and to help if needed. As soon as the library program ended, we needed to get the Princess to her piano lesson, and then Hubby would be home and it would be supper time.
"We can't eat. It's too hot. Let's go to the lake right after piano."
So we did. We dropped the Princess at her lesson, sped home to throw all the beach toys and towels and water bottles and life jackets in the car (why does a simple trip to the beach always turn into some kind of giant expedition?), picked up the Princess and went straight to the lake.
This is where I show how hot it was: even *I* put on my swimsuit and decided to go in.
I don't really go in past my knees. Like, ever. It's not that I don't like to swim, it's just that there were pregnancies, and then infants, and toddlers, and....well, I've just spent much more time splashing than swimming for the past, um, decade.
But this year, my babies seem magically grown. Grown into playful children who don't need their Mama to entertain them at the beach. Usually this allows Mama to sit on the beach blanket with her camera and get lots of fun photos.
But it was HOT.
Mama decided she was going in. The kids all had life jackets on and I could see them from where I was.
Except THEY FOLLOWED ME.
Even the little guy. The Boy who wouldn't even take a bath until he was 4 and a half, too afraid of the water was he (lest you think we didn't wash him for 4 years, he would take a shower with Hubby and I would assist). The Boy who has failed the simplist level of Preschool Swimming lessons twice, the lessons that don't really teach any actual swimming, just how to be comfortable around the water. Out he came, until he couldn't touch the bottom any more, and then he hollered for me to come and get him. Not to take him safely back to shore, but to come out farther. To SWIM.
So I did. And a new lake favourite was born: they call it Mama the Tug Boat. It started with that little Boy and his Mama's desire to stretch her forgotten swimming muscles. We swam from the public beach over to the boat launch. Well, I swam, he clutched my shoulder and occasionally kicked his feet to help out. It was a very touching "Finding Nemo" moment. I was a giant sea turtle.
And then it became this cool thing, and Mama was called upon to do laps; ferrying the kiddos back and forth, back and forth, until her atrophied swim muscles gave in to the shakes and quit altogether. In between there was splashing and laughing and secret smiles. There was throwing stones for fun and sticks for a dog to retrieve. There was silliness and sweetness and fun. And while part of me yearned for my camera to capture it all, a perfect hour at the lake, the rest of me knew that this was better, this being in the water and in the moment. So the shutter in my brain went on overtime, trying to save this image and that expression for cold winter nights when they're grown and gone, while my actual shutter finger was magically transformed into a tickle finger to attack unsuspecting and giggling prey.
And it was good.
No editing required.
*I actually get sick when I spend time in air conditioning, and air conditioning in vehicles is about 10X worse than in buildings. We're without air conditioning by choice. It doesn't mean we don't still feel the heat.