Licking my wounds with ice cream

I didn't know anything. I just knew I wanted the kids enrolled, and after a five minute conversation with my neighbor, jumped in her car and headed to the local high school...thirty minutes early. We walked through the double doors of the natatorium and took our spot at the end of the line, which wrapped around the hallway and half way down another. After a good forty-five minute lesson in patience, and conversation with many friendly Moms, I had received more information about the swim lessons than I did from any phone call or website inquiry. I was ready! We were ready!

Three weeks had past...

I made sure to put dinner on early, so they could eat in plenty of time before their scheduled lessons. We put our suits on and danced around the house in excitement. "I have a new bathing suit, Mama!" Katie explained. "Yaaahhhhh," followed Conor, hands stretched above his head.

Just as I did three weeks before, I arrived thirty minutes early (it's a problem I have). Since the sign on the door kindly asked us not to enter during the lesson and it was two minutes past the hour, we didn't. Instead, I encouraged the kids to watch the Moms and babies in the big pool through the hallway doors. They squatted down, shoulder to shoulder, and peeked through the ground level window. Every couple of minutes, Conor would turn his head over his left shoulder and point, notifying me the kids were still in the pool. Then, they would skip down the hall to the water fountain and back, as if watching made them thirsty.

After thirty minutes of this routine, it was our turn. As we rose from our seats, my sweet husband innocently asked me (bless him), "Why are you the only one in your bathing suit?" And, then, the fear set in.....could I have gotten the time wrong?

It was as if the answer came in slow motion, when she pointed to our names on the schedule next to the six o'clock hour. We had been watching our class...from the windows...for thirty minutes. And now, it was anothers turn. No Mom and baby class. No level one swimmers. My heart fell to my feet, right there on the side of the pool.

"What's wrong, Mama?" Katie asked. "Mommy made a mistake," I answered. "We can't go swimming today. We were too late." I think it was then, looking at her face, that my heart rolled into the pool and sank to the bottom...of the deep end.

We slowly walked to the car, loaded up the kids, buckled ourselves in, and I cried. I cried because I felt like I had let them down. I felt like the worst Mom ever. I felt empty.

Then, from the back seat, I heard the words, "Don't cry, Mom. Ice cream will make you feel better".

And just like that, our four year old had once again amazed me. We went to Sonic, treated ourselves to some fun frosty drinks, and smiled all the way home...in our dry suits...to try again on Monday.

She was right. Ice cream did make me feel better.