Dear Lady Whose Kid Crapped in the Pool:
I have not laid eyes on you however I imagine you are young—maybe in your thirties? You are probably a bit tired and overwhelmed. I imagine you have planned for your vacation for several months–maybe even saved up to come here.
You have little ones–perhaps two or three under three? You may even have one on the way.
Pay attention. What I am about to say, I say with love and experience.
No doubt, you saw the scowls on the faces of HUNDREDS of people as our community pool was shut down because your son or daughter left a “floatie.” I am sure you heard the angry “Put your kid in a swim diaper for God’s sake!”
I am certain you cringed and maybe collected your kids and mountains of kid gear and scurried off trying to not be noticed.
Here is my message to you.
It. Is. OK.
Your child had an accident. It may have inconvenienced a few people who really don’t want to walk the TEN FEET to the other pool but they will live. Don’t let today’s incident ruin your day, your vacation, and most importantly your impression of motherhood.
I tell you this because my kids no longer wear swim diapers. I don’t worry about them having accidents. In fact I am forbidden from acknowledging that any of them even have bowel movements. You think people today were mean? Try asking your 13 year old son if he has toilet paper in his bathroom. THAT is a look of disgust for you.
Today I was a little melancholy because those are no longer my worries. Now I worry that my daughter will soon drive and that my son may get his heart broken. I worry about them living up to their potential in a REALLY hard world. I worry about them needing therapy because of my blog. But most of all I worry that I was not good enough for them–as a mom—when they were little enough to leave floaties. I was where you are. I stomped my feet. I screamed. I locked myself in the bathroom and cried. I imagined my life would never be more than spilled milk, dirty diapers, and crushed cheerios on my floor.
I forgot nuzzling cheeks, naked butts, and heart filling giggles in those “floating crap” moments. Don’t do that.
After all, now my biggest fear is that I won’t know what to be when they are are gone—and that reality is really really close.
Forget the a-hole that offered to pay for your $5 swim diaper “for sale RIGHT there at the pool.” Because, my friend in the end, a “floatie” is just that ….not worth a second of your agony.
A Mom Who Has Been There (and misses it.)