Sometimes, Me and Modern Life? We Don't Get Along

We have gotten into the habit of joining a municipal pool. It started with the desire to get my kids into swimming lessons again after I left the Y, shaking the dust from my feet. They do a swim camp every year but I wanted something more. The Maplewood pool was allowing some city residents to join at the Maplewood resident rate, and we all jumped on board.

The next year they decided against it. This was partly due to the new "city" pool down in Carondelet Park, which of course was not a city pool at all and in fact cost more to join than the Maplewood pool at the non-resident rate. So I joined Maplewood again and expressed my distate and displeasure with the YMCA (who runs the new rec plex with the pool, built on public land, gah, don't get me started) with anyone who would listen. My kids love Maplewood and all is well.

Well, it isn't cheap. And the closer we got to summer, the more I wondered if we just couldn't afford it. Yes, I could write the check, no problem, we could cover it, but could we justify the expense? Would we visit often enough to make it worth it? The answer of course is no.

So Lisa, over at Clearview, and I were going up to the girl scout HQ and she mentioned this pass one might purchase for $25, allowing two entries into 19 different pools in the area. I did the math and figured $75 or $100 and we'd have all the pool we could ever want. If Zelda and her family joined as well, then even better. Then of course life got busy again, dang it, with my insulting the board of directors at our school to their faces and running girl scout wrap up sessions and looking at too many pictures of Joplin.

Today Zelda and I talked. She had heard of it, too, and decided it was well worth the difference in price for as often as they would go to the pool in a given summer. And if we both did it, then hooray, our kids could go together and everyone would be happy. Solved. Except:

1. I told Sophia. And she burst into tears because it was an unknown. "What if I really like one of the pools and we can NEVER GO AGAIN?" And I argued the better to have gone to a pool and loved it and never go again than to never have gone to the pool at all side of the debate and finally pulled the cashflow card: look, kid, you lost a $175 pair of shoes last month (Irish dance hard shoes), you need to be quiet about how your family spends its money.

2. I called one of the places rumored to sell it after I could find no information online. THEY WERE OUT OF THE PASSES. WHAT? She transferred me to the man who coordinated it, who of course had gone home. I left a polite message and hoped we weren't too late.

3. Overhearing the conversation I then had with Zelda while driving to Irish dance, Sophia started crying again because now I had her convinced of the merits of the multi-pool pass and now she'd never get to experience it.

4. I dropped Sophia off at dance, where I found said $175 pair of shoes in the lost and found she swore she had already checked and I told her she was a lucky girl. And she was happy and relieved and went to class.

5. I stopped by the nearby pool, one of the ones on the pass, to see if they had them. They accept them, sure, the 16 year old kid told me. But he didn't think they had any. I could stop by the office, but it closes at 4.

6. Leo, who was in the stroller while I talked to the 16 year old, saw the pool behind the desk, the sprinklers, the brightly colored umbrellas. As we walked to the car, THAT WAS IT. He was so angry. I had taken him within yards of the most magical place he'd ever seen, and then turned back around to go to the car. He cried for 10 minutes, this high-pitched scream, and then got sullen and wouldn't look at me. The rest of the way home.

7. I called Mike because he was picking Sophia up and would have time to kill. Could he call around other pools on the list? Shoot me. He hates making phone calls as much as I do. The thing started to seem like some kind of phantom rumor. Like it wasn't real and I should cut my losses and just sign up for Maplewood. Or move to Alberta.

Once I was home, I started cleaning the kitchen, feeling like hitting someone. Both of the younger children slept, exhausted from the weekend and the heat and humidity that has arrived without permission. I cleaned out the fridge. I planned dinner. And then Mike called.

The first pool he called had the passes. I should call in the morning and they'd tell me how to get them.

Relief.

All is well.

Up later: photos and stories from our holiday weekend; more girl scout eye rolling. Fun!