It's the day before Easter and what a busy day it has managed to be. I've admittedly been slacking on my day before Easter activities because my mind has been clouded by what today also is: summer session swim sign-ups. Last summer we were new to our swim school and I didn't think showing up at 8:00 a.m. for a 7:30 a.m. sign up would be all that bad but, as it turned out, the session had sold out and Ethan didn't have a place. Since we're in Florida and have lessons year 'round, you don't really think the summer would be much different but, turns out, it is. Between school being out, teachers having the summers off and people deciding that this is the summer their kids learn to swim, the summer sign-up day becomes like Black Friday. This year, I was ready. My friend and I were all set to meet up at the aquatic complex at 6:00 a.m. for a 7:30 a.m. sign-up. This seemed reasonable. Ethan is doing so well in swimming and his teacher wanted him to skip the three year old class after his birthday in June and move right up to the 4-5 year old class. There was no way I wanted him to miss this opportunity because I was sleepy and stayed up too late watching Party of Five. Now that he can swim, they're working on technique and I'm experiencing a whole new world of encouraging my child's hobbies and interests (even the ones I'm utterly clueless about, like swimming). If the kid wants to swim in the Olympics, the kid is going to do it -- even if I have to camp out at 6:00 a.m. to get him signed up for the 4-5 year old summer session. It's the sort of adrenaline you get from your kid actually being passionate about something, especially for the first time.
I pulled into the parking lot at 5:55 a.m., moments before the monsoon started outside. I was 20th in a line that soon wrapped around the entirety of the building. We sat there soaked and tired, moms and dads chugged down coffee, people sat in their folding chairs. The entire thing was a little bit insane but at the same time, I was kicking myself for not getting there at 5:00 a.m. like the people at the very front of the line. I had set out to sign Ethan up for a very specific schedule based on a whole lot of reasons: the same pool as to not switch it up on him, the time when his beloved teacher would also be in the pool since she won't be teaching his new class and a weekend class because if something else should happen to me this pregnancy I needed my husband to be available for Swim Duty. It was a little bit intense. As they shoveled our line forward through the rain, a man decided he wanted to take my ticket -- we had numbered tickets to hold our place in line -- and cut in front of me. I was sandwiched in line between two dads who didn't let that happen, thank goodness, but I'm still torn between laughing and being dumbfounded by how rotten some people would be. I mean, really, who takes someone's ticket and cuts them for a swim class sign up? Cut throat, I'm telling you. Heather and I got to the front and learned the weekend courses cost more money than the cash we had brought -- a total we calculated based on our current lesson pricing -- and proceeded to, uh, lose our minds a little bit. Because my mother is somewhat of a saint, she was there in ten minutes with our extra cash and a couple hours later we left the facility with our children signed up for our first choice swim courses and no battle wounds to show for it. In return for her setting out in the wee hours of the morning in a tornado watch, Ethan now has to thank my mother first in his Olympic medal acceptance speech. I can deal with these terms.
I'm wiped out. I've been wiped out since 8:00 this morning. Eventually as the day unfolded we made our way to the previously planned pre-Easter festivities. This year, dying eggs was Ethan's favorite. It was serious business. Each time he pulled an egg from the dye cup he would exclaim, "I love it!" or "it's beautiful!"
It's crazy to think that this is our last Easter with only one child. I think that about every holiday that passes. Last December was our last Christmas with just one child. It's hard to imagine these holidays -- or, heck, life -- being any fuller but I'm excited to challenge that thought. I'm excited to make the holidays even bigger and fuller and listening to my kids laughing together on Christmas morning or hunting for eggs in the backyard on Easter. It's a crazy thing to think about, our kids, but it's a good one to think about. No matter how wiped out I am, I can't wait to do it all times two.
Even sit outside the aquatic complex in the wee hours of the morning in a monsoon waiting to sign two kids up for swim classes.
Yes, even that.