Wednesday, May 11, 2011

swim lessons

Recently the husband and I attended an engagement party for a dear friend...with dear the house of a dear friend. Late as always, we ventured down the street...nearing the front door and at that precise moment where you can take the grass or take the stairs, the husband said..."hey, you wanna grass it?" My response...a simple but direct..."no"...mainly because I had on my best pair of Stuart Weitzman's and because the entire front of our friend's home is windows and I didn't want to be traipsing through the grass... to which he replied..."I forgot you aren't fun anymore". Okay, so he jokes around like this a lot and I admit, there are things I used to haphazardly do that I now think long and hard about...over thinking most everything...partly because I'm older and well, maybe because I'm a Mom. I don't know, either way, I know I'm still "fun" whether that means "grassing" it or not. With that said, I started thinking about how sometimes we forget things...I forget things. I forget that it's okay to be silly, it's okay to let go sometimes and not plan everything out. Which got me thinking...right after the husband and I got married we had the luxury of living with his parents. I can say that now even though at the time I wanted more than anything for us to have our own place. Grass is always greener...our meals were prepared...breakfast, lunch, and dinner, our laundry always done, our bed always made, "our" house always clean, and no I said, grass is always greener. Also, a nice bonus was that the husband's childhood friend who also happened to be his cross-the-street neighbor, had a pool which we were free to use anytime we wanted. With nothing but free time on our hands we found ourselves over there a lot. This was not your fiberglass, vinyl liner number...this was a real pool, Hollywood style...gunite...inlaid tile and inset hot tub. At first I approached it as I have every pool since I was old enough to crave a tan, cool off, and relax...I dipped in, stood around bobbing up and down, dog paddled, and then would get out...only to repeat all of that after I was hot again. The husband however took a much different approach. He cannonballed, and jumped, and flailed around and went down the late model slide. Yep...a good ole slide. A slide that he as a teenager would go down sans clothing so as to gain top speed, never minding that the privacy fence was a good foot below the view from the top of the slide, therefore gracing every passerby with his bum. As he recounted this story to me many times over I began to realize that I did get bored often on our visits over there. No, no, I didn't go down the slide...ever...but I did let the husband teach me how to swim again. You see, I knew how to swim, I could do the breast stroke, back stroke, even a sloppy butterfly, but...I forgot how to "swim" to have fun. Why had I stopped jumping in over and over only to get out and, well, do it again and again. That day I dove and did the can opener, and back flip and hand stands in the shallow end trying to hold my breath longer than the husband. I was a kid again. I was "swimming" again. And so, as I write this and think about that time at the pool that summer, I have decided to try to approach each day with a renewed spirit, running instead of walking, laughing when I should be quiet, and...walking through the grass! image credit:

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