Define Carefree?

Ah carefree summer days—relaxing by a clear blue pool, sipping a cool beverage, sounds of kids screaming with delight waft in and out of my head whilst I lay reclined on a beach chair sunning myself. I’m in pure relaxation mode as I think of my empty inbox, not a care in the world. It’s not a vacation day, just a random carefree day where it doesn’t matter whether my phone is on or not and I know there is nobody waiting at home or the office itching to say, “Where in the heck have you been?” when I get home (nobody= my husband, used to be my parents).

That is my dream. I get so tantalizingly close. I’m like Sisyphus just falling short of my vision. Or wait, perhaps I mean Tantalus. Who knows. I’m too exhausted to care or Google it. After attempting to create my vision with my two best friends from childhood at our old pool stomping grounds with 5 kids under the age of three, I’m about to pass out on my keyboard. It’s physically impossible for people to relax at a pool post children given the laws of physics, my utter incompetence at being carefree and my two-year-old son’s incessant attempts to kill himself via drowning.

Carefree to me, used to mean having everything on my to do list done and a plan of action for the day—even if that plan was read book, lunch, read book, cocktails, dinner, read book. Today started out with all of my requirements for carefree in place, but the best laid plans… 10 minutes into the pool day and I was downing my iced coffee to ward off a tension headache. Although a double of anything alcohol related would’ve scratched that itch better, it would have been odd for me to ask if anyone happened to have an adult beverage or even Robitussen on them. It was before noon.

I was late meeting my friends at the pool (I’d tried to jam in a quick run before leaving), which stressed my mom out because she was the one getting us all into the pool, which in turn stressed me out. It’s not like the President was waiting for us. What’s 15 minutes and an apology amongst friends on a pool day? Regardless, not wanting to further disappoint my mother, I felt compelled to rush around the house trying to gather up my son’s pool day requirements—forgetting his swim diaper, sunscreen, my coffee, and his sandals in the process. Naturally, I became even more stressed as my son, who had refused to eat anything other than Keebler Rainbow chocolate chip cookies for breakfast, had meltdown fit after screaming meltdown fit.

Once I’d returned from Starbucks with secreted beverages and my friend had given me an extra Swim diaper, relaxing pool day commenced. 20 minutes later, I was fishing my son from the water where he’d been submerged for at least 5 seconds when I took my eye off of him to get my friend’s sunscreen so he wouldn’t burn to a crisp under the midday son. I’d mistakenly thought a lifeguard or parent might fish him out if he tumbled. Can someone tell me what is the point of lifeguards if the mother twice the distance away rescues the kid faster??? 

Now I’m sitting vigil exhausted while my son sleeps checking his breath every 5 minutes to ensure he doesn’t dry drown (something that happens after you survive actual drowning only to asphyxiate in your sleep … isn’t it lovely that I can now create NEW anxieties for myself??) Apparently relaxing by the pool and talking to friends ends with children. I’m just hoping that tonight at dinner with my two childhood friends, we’ll at least get to have a carefree summer evening. Although, that would likely entail me NOT imagining death by dry drowning.