Straight from the Idea Machine

For the first time in a good month or so, I kicked our air conditioning on this morning. 

I had just gotten Marin down for her first nap and was running from floor to floor with with laundry baskets, miscellaneous toys and the vacuum cleaner while the boys sprawled on various couches watching the 1990 Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movie I had tivo'd for them over the weekend (must supply culture, yes?)  I realized on my nineteenth pass through the living room that, holy shit, I was hot.  It must be...summer? 

I clicked on the air and the children dove for the pile of folded blankets beside the tv cabinet, teeth chattering.  What was I was trying to do to them, anyway?

They finished their movie and I shooed them to the back yard, where they peered in through the sliding glass door like two little pound puppies, mouthing something about H-O-T (not that I could actually hear them) as their lower extremeties melted into the patio pavers.  They generally looked sweaty and pitiful out there and I wondered with not being able to hear all the whining, why I hadn't thought to shut the door before. 

They have been playing in the garden hose every single day for two months now, practically. 

(God bless my water bill.)

Which is fine, when it is seventy-eight degrees. 

But eighty-five changes a whole lot, apparently.

I believed them about all of the H-O-T as I hiked out to the laundry lines with a four thousand pound basket of sopping wet clothes, and I offered that they might play in the water. 

But alas sixty straight days of taking turns spraying each other in the face with everything from Mist to Jet on the hose handle and then yelling at tops of lungs for that great offense which each one hath committed four minutes earlier...  They were bored with the hose, which I thought might have happened fifty nine days earlier.  (High-fives self for fifty-nine days of borrowed time.)

I have guilt this summer (ohhh what would motherhood be without the guilt?) that there is no large basin in our yard for Mister Almost Seven to swim in.  He is in real-life boyhood now, and we've got a whole bunch of baby going on here, save the Saturday morning swim lessons at our local YMCA.  

I sheepishly proposed that I could pull the blue plastic pool out of the shed.

And then KJ dove head-first into eye-rolling, foot-stomping, ear-piercing conniption fits, and mother guilt rose up through my cold black heart and into my throat, choking me for ways in which I have destroyed my children's would-be childhoods, and the two of us, right there in the late-July sun, had heart attacks and died in our back yard. 

Shut up.  You weren't there.

I don't know what came over me, but I quickly came up with an idea that a boy in his boyhood was actually elated to hear, as it involved equal parts dangerous with potential for mess and disaster.  I suggested, as if I arose from my bed at four o'clock this morning just waiting for the perfect moment to suggest this best suggestion ever, that they might fill the pool and arrange it at the bottom of our slide.

Absolute genious, they thought.  And they cheered for me, and showered me with kisses and double stuf oreo cookies. 

And this is why you keep coming back to me, yes?  For fantastic parenting schemes.

The boy climbed the clubhouse ladder as the yellow slide and icy cold plastic pool stood waiting.

And then he encouraged his younger, unknowing brother to go first so that he could watch what might become of him.

Which was a good call because the slide was hot and anything but slick as his three-year-old sticky sunblock-slathered belly squeaked down.

Then they sprayed the slide down and the boy of almost seven took his shot.

It was fast,

and everything dangerous and thrilling he'd hoped for,

and a little cold, also.

But a success.

They went on to play on The Best Summer Idea Ever for the entire afternoon, trying out various stunts and feats of extreme bravery.

And after four hours and with pruny fingers they filled the pool with grass clippings, mud and landscaping rocks, and they tested the buoyancy of their crocs. 

And everyone lived happily ever after.

The end.

Comments

[Jen L.]

Thumbs up!

[Erin]

Great action photos! Don't you just love the lack of fear and the urge for danger that boys have! Great "Mommy Moment!"

[Jen]

Something about them singing your praises about this reminded me about the Bill Cosby act about giving his kids chocolate cake for breakfast and them singing his praises. Great pictures!

[C @ Kid Things]

It looks fun!

[BetteJo]

Now THAT'S what kids playing in the yard LOOKS like! Lots of unplanned, unscheduled acts of daring-do. Go Mom for setting it up!

[Tina]

great idea! how fun! they look like they had a blast! =)

[SJ]

Looks like they had so much fun! What a great idea MOM :)

[MommyWizdom]

Oh, that is the best story in the universe (to have come out of the idea machine)!!! Congrats to you! You can bring your mommy guilt down a few notches for that great feat!!

I loved the entire post! I nominate it as the bestest post ever!!!

Thanks for the great idea too! I tried to buy a kiddy pool with a slide attached but it was missing pieces so I had to take it back. But who needs a lame pool slide when you can use the real thing! You rock!!

http://blog.mommywizdom.com

[Frema]

I love the picture of KJ pushing on Jack's foot as he braves the slide first. Nothing like the protection of a big brother!

This really does look awesome!