The kids have really been putting me through my paces this week. There have been a lot of arguments between the two of them, a lot of hitting, spitting, and general brawling. I am very glad we made it to Friday.
A few days ago I dragged out the inflatable pool since it was finally nice outside. They enjoyed it all afternoon, and the hitting was kept at a minimum.
Today we were back outside, trying to burn a bit of time before we went out of the house. I was planning a little treat because, hey, Friday. I tell them in no uncertain terms not to mess with the water in the pool, which was still outside, since we’re going out later.
They manage to steer clear of it and opt for bike riding. Well, I take that back. First, Sam throws an ever-loving fit when he wasn’t able to swing, then he got clocked upside the head when — still having a fit — he ran in front of Lydia, who was swinging high.
After all that — bike riding.
At one point Sam flies down the hill in his Big Wheel and runs smack into the side of the pool. Word of warning: “Don’t do that, Sam,” and next time he steers clear of it.
Lydia was riding around on Sam’s orange balance bike. Sam hasn’t really taken to that bike yet but Lydia will ride it occasionally. She was decked out in her bicycle helmet, a colorful Rainbow Dash glitter shirt, rainbow socks of her cousin’s that went up to her knees, and rainbow shoes.
I look up just in time to see Lydia flying down the hill on Sam’s orange bike. The turn to the left to avoid the pool doesn’t occur. As I’m forming the words to say, “Lydia, don’t run into the pool,” she smacks into it.
Newtonian physics take over as I watch her, as if in slow motion, smack into the rubber side of the pool. The back wheel, which hasn’t noticed the front wheel is embedded in rubber, keeps spinning, which sends the back half of the bike up and over the front wheel, carrying Lydia with it.
As the bike rotates around its stationary front wheel, I see Lydia dive head first into the water. There is an almighty splash, and the wave of water rises up and envelops her, with only her rainbow-clad legs sticking out.
The bike ends its descent, following her into the pool with a smaller splash.
By the time I’m standing up Lydia has hauled her soaking wet body out of the water, shivering and crying from the shock. My body wrestles with itself, not sure what to do with the two separate emotions of “Is she okay?” with “Holy shit that is the most hilarious thing I have ever seen; why was I not filming that?” I end up shaking with silent laughter, tears coming out of my eyes while I comfort my wet daredevil daughter.
So much for keeping them out of the pool.