It was said that we could not have picked a day with worse weather... a statement which was arguable, but just because you might argue that the weather could be worse doesn't mean it was good. The sun was sporadic, peeking in and out of clouds moving at high speeds in the Idaho wind. There's nothing quite like Idaho wind that takes already-chilly air and quadruples the chilly-factor into something fairly miserable.
I stood on the deck sporting goose-flesh... even before I submerged my body in chest-deep water. I was reluctant to do it, to take the plunge. The combination of chilly air, twenty mile-an-hour winds and unreliable sunshine was not very appealing to my grown-up self.
My children had no such hesitations. Mac entered the water with a full on *cannon-ball. Ella, with a little more reservation, testing to make sure she could, indeed, touch the bottom and, after her pedi-confirmation, she squealed and splashed like the girly-girl she is. Rohan climbed down the ladder gingerly, feeling insecure even in his life jacket, and, after hanging on the stairs for a minute accompanied by minor coaxing from his brother and his mother, rediscovered how to float, kick, and steer, not to mention grin in an ear-splitting, heart-melting fashion. The most remarkable part was the breakthrough of Rohan's smile absolutely independent of his mother's proximity, close or not.
Upon discovering my children's utter lack of need for their mother in the pool, I wrapped a towel around my shoulders and settled into a chair to observe their watery play. But, a small part of me still wanted to jump in. After all, I had on a new swimming suit that I bought last November that was still awaiting it's first immersion in water. My mind went back and forth for a few minutes, get in or not?, when suddenly Marci, who had been occupied equipping her children with every floating device known to man, stripped to the suit and climbed in the water. I vacillated for only a few seconds more before shedding my own shorts, exposing my bare (and very white) legs to the wind, and following Marci into the water.
It was as cold as I imagined, but screaming about it was half of the fun. Discussions ensued about the wind and how much it adds to the swimming experience, followed shortly by the entrance of "the silliness" that cannot be helped when I'm around Marci. In an attempt to warm ourselves, we became aerobics instructors, calling out moves and trying to do them in the water without getting our hair wet. (not a matter of vanity as much as anti-hypothermia) It was when Marci called out, "Push-Ups!", that I decided to give up the aerobics and trade it for running.
With it's just-above-waist water level, this pool was perfect for leaning forward and digging in for an attempt at water-running, which I did with gusto. It was not long before I was towing several children by a water-noodle as I made my laps around the pool. Did you know that you can sweat in a pool if you don't get your head wet? I didn't, but I do now.
My heart rate reached substantial elevation for warmth to radiate from the core of me and suddenly the wind didn't matter so much.
Fun was had by all, even Mom.
*Artistic license taken. Cannon-balls are so much more exuberant than climbing down the ladder... and he did do the cannon-balls, it was just a little later.