Lizzie and Ben had already gone, and were in fact at the pool when the weather turned ugly. I was at the high school picking up Abby, the rumbles and grumbles of the sky getting louder and closer every few seconds. Surprisingly though … no rain. Nary a drop on my windshield. Abby got in the car and said her usual, “I have so much homework.”
I haven’t figured out if that is just her talking or is it her way of being passive aggressive? Either way, I have learned not to respond. I say nothing. She asked about the weather and I said, “Text your coach.” She reached for my phone and I said, “No, from your phone.” He responded with, “We are hopeful it will pass as yesterday we were in the same situation.” He was right, and last night the weather passed and it was beautiful.
So, status quo.
We got home, she had requested a baked potato, and I threw my last two little red potatoes in the microwave. Topped them with butter and cheese, salt and pepper, made Mary a quick grilled cheese for the car and we were off. Thankfully, I’d made dinner earlier. Pasta Bolognese. All I have left to make is the pasta. Open a bag of salad, throw the ciabatta in the oven and we are set.
Heading west, the sky was an ominous dark, the thunder and lightning more and more prevalent. We made it all the way past the rival high school when Abby got the text back from her coach. Practice cancelled. The rain had begun in earnest and I confess to a certain amount of giddy relief. I got on the phone to call my carpool buddies and let them know. Abby confirmed with the coach that all the practices were cancelled, not just hers.
We got home and my friend pulled up with Lizzie and Ben and her two girls, all kids terribly grumbly because they haven’t been able to swim yet. I can only hope all this display by Mother Nature means the season is changing and we are in for cooler weather. I am sort of over the 94 degrees with 87% humidity. Yeah.
So here I sit, my kids are all home, there is no where to go, dinner is made, the sky is dark so the house holds a certain quiet coziness. I feel like a kid when school gets cancelled and you get to stay in your pajamas all day.
I love swimming. I love what it does for my kids’ bodies. I love what it does for my kids’ minds. I don’t always love what it does to my schedule, but I love the friends I’ve made because of that schedule. I love that it forces me to think and plan and prepare and be organized. I love the clean, acidic smell that clings to the kids when they get in the car. I don’t so much love the way my car smells the next day … especially when one of them has left a wet towel, but I’ve come to accept that my truck will always have that particularly pungent odor. After all, it was earned by thousands of practices, hundreds of tears – both good and bad, kids that belong to me, kids that belong to my friends, spilled snacks and drinks.
But sometimes its nice to get that little free gift.
A night when we can all eat together as a family.