Don’t ya just want to pop in the ‘ole Will Smith CD song and start singing… Summer Summer Summer Time, What? Wait, we don’t use CD’s anymore? So crank up those MP3 Players, or your IPod 200, or whatever version we are on now, and dive into summer!
I just love the summer, favorite season by far, spending the day at the pool, or the beach, getting tan, taking that after beach shower, feeling so fresh like you’ve just been shot up with Botox, (or what I am told it feels like) the sound of that first beer crackling open while getting ready to hang-out to the wee hours of the…oh shit, what the hell am I talking about? Did I just have my first flash-back? Damn, I really believed that my life lends itself to this type of living… yea right!
Now, my top priority for the summer is to make sure my kids don’t drown. Drowning is my number one phobia, choking is second and a home invasion is third. Yea, I’m not normal but that’s been established years ago, precisely 6.5 years ago when my first son was born.
Ah the Summer Time and Sunscreen. Sunscreen, oh Sunscreen how I hate thee! I never wore sunscreen as a kid, and I was a golden bronze till about November, and had tan lines till December. Kids today, I guess can’t handle a little melanoma…wimps! I hate the whole sunscreen purchase ‘cause I never know what sunscreen to buy… 15, 30, 45, 50. All the fancy bottles with their little spray adapters, and the oh, so alluring “No Tears” advertising that really pulls me in. There are so many brands to choose from…do I go basic with CVS, or is that playing with fire? Banana Boat or is that just for Surfers? What about Aveeno, is that better for the skin? I can’t make a decision for the life of me! And the SPF… confused on that one too. I just heard that the SPF number has no relation to actual protection of the skin; it refers to the actual minutes that you will be protected while in the sun. HELLO? Duped for all these years – screw you Coppertone, although that baby’s ass is so pinch-able, isn’t it?
I am very thankful that my kids have finally taken one thing that I spew to heart and that I actually ingrained in my their minds how important sunscreen is so much so that my two-year whips out the bottle as if he’s about to graffiti a wall. I am also thankful that they give me a break on the application process too. But that wasn’t always the case, two-three years ago; slathering sunscreen on my child was like giving a beluga whale a bath – impossible. The kicking, the screaming, one hand on the kid, the other hand had a glob of lotion in it which you are trying desperately not to get on that cute little cover-up, which ultimately happens, while trying to get the kid all protected and stuff. Finally, you get the sunscreen on the chest, back, legs and arms, and then (que evil music) you have to go in for the face. Like a Russian gymnast, you fly through the air doing what seems like a back handspring into triple somersault(s) grabbing the face as you land, making the quickest swipe of sunscreen from forehead to chin hoping that you got the entire face covered amidst cries of “not on my face, not on my face”. Impossible is an understatement, I feel for those that still go through this and I thank GOD that I don’t have to. WHEW!
Since I retired my Russian gymnast routine, but typical summer day now goes like this: After we apply sunscreen we jump into a hot sticky car to head to the pool. The car is so hot your ass cheeks stick to the seats, the kids faces look like plums, the two-year old wants to get in the car by himself and if I let that happen, he’ll jump into the driver’s seat to play with all the dials. As I try to grab him he jumps from seat to seat. I am now sweating like a beast getting so aggravated that I’ll end grabbing the kid and literally throw him in the car seat as I try not to burn my hand on the metal puzzle like thingy to secure him. This is not fun, and I try to bypass this as much as possible. Kids are secure, and we rock and roll.
We arrive at the pool. This is where my acting chops come into play. I’m the lucky gal that gets to pretend to be Houdini and Claudia Schiffer – talk about method acting. I never took a class in my life; however I can pull this off like nobody’s business. First,I have to pretend that I am all confident and stuff as I don my “skirtini” and strut around the pool chasing a two-year old – I pretend that the piss-laden baby pool is a cat-walk and I am “moving my hips like “yeah” when in all reality I am a graceful as bull in a china shop, it’s acting people. As I pretend to do my cat-walk – I have turn into Houdini and magically bounce to the big pool so the six year old can swim and show off. Two places at one time? No problem! Um, big problem, dragging a two year old out of the pool he enjoys to a scary big pool is not an easy feat nor do I look pretty doing it. I am basically mooning the entire pool as I grab the kid, trying not to slip and crack my head on the concrete. After which I have to pull out my best moves to keep him afloat as I compliment the six year old on all the neat tricks that he can do…gotta build up that ego, ya know! We do this for three to four hours, and then mama is done.
When my timer goes off, I pack up our crap, keep the kids away from the pool, and as dry as possible thus the changing process begins. Because God forbid they sit in something wet, I mean, why are we spoiling these kids? I wore my wet bathing suit for hours; my ass looked like a prune before my mother changed me. After struggling to get off their wet bathing suits, and into dry clothes we head out the gates, pass the concession stand and argue about whether or not they can get ice pops. Mind you they already had like 10 ice pops, goldfish, juice boxes, you name it. Some days I cave and other days I am as firm as a Joan Rivers face. I thank God that I was smart enough not to tackle the beach on my own. I get the little buggers in the car and we’re off. Finally we get home, get ready for dinner, eat,and with any luck they pass out… that’s when Mama gets to crack open that brewski!
AAhhh Summer Time…