A little background: I love having a pool. When I was a kid in Ohio, I was the one with a pool – it was a rarity among folk in a climate where winters (and most of fall and most of spring) were harsh enough to freeze 20,000 gallons to a solid. When Ian and I bought our first house together, he required a good kitchen and I required a pool. Of course, we also required a quiet neighborhood, extra bedrooms, and all the other requirements for parenthood, and we were lucky enough to get it all. The pool is fenced in, as required by California foster care, and we have an attached hot tub which we never use as such, but which we figured was perfect as a kiddy pool. I live every minute of every summer I can in the pool, and Ian, who grew up in an even less pool-oriented climate than Ohio – England – has gradually gravitated towards it as well. Needless to say, as summer begins in the blast furnace they call the San Fernando Valley, we want our child to be comfortable in the pool because that’s where we will be.
Mikey, on being brought out to the pool at a friend’s house days after we first got him, screeched in horror, and could only be comforted with a snack cup of pretzels. Gradually, we introduced him to our pool, and he came to understand the pleasure of dipping his feet in the water and splashing, with me or Ian by his side. A week ago, he stood up on the highest step in the hot tub/kiddy pool, and then soon, he was comfortable walking along it, collecting some toys we scattered along it.
Today, we brought him out to the pool, as we do every afternoon, and we went through the familiar procession, feet splashing, standing, squirting one another with bath toys, collecting toys on the top step. Ian sat on the top step, and Mikey just suddenly decided to sit down next to him. That lasted for an hour or so of play. I was in the middle of the hot tub, and Ian got out to lie out on the deck, and Mikey went to join him. Mikey handed him his shirt, and Ian put it on, and we thought it was over for the day.
“Should I take his swim suit off here?” Ian asked.
“Might as well, and take his diapers off too,” I said. “They’ve already absorbed half the pool.”
When Ian removed Mikey’s bottom half of clothing, Mikey held up his arms to have his shirt removed as well, and soon the naked little boy was back in the pool, and I was watching warily to make sure he didn’t find the immersion in water too … relaxing. I was so expecting imminent pooping that when he turned around and squatted, I assumed that was it, but Ian called to my attention that he was just trying to get down to the next lower step. I helped him down, and for the next two hours, we played in the water which was up to both of our necks, laughing, splashing, and singing. I only pulled him out because the sun was setting, and I was entirely pruned up.
He may turn out to be a bigger water baby than even me. I wonder if Ms. B, who is giving him swimming lessons in a couple weeks, will mind if he does it nude.
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