It was one of those days.
Everything was bugging me. I was stressed. Anxious. Biting back easily. Overly emotional.
Just feeling like a pile of shit.
I threatened cancelling baby girl’s swimming lesson several times during the day when she didn’t listen to me… but to be honest, it would have done me as much of a disservice as to her, if I had gone through with it.
That’s because, of the guaranteed peace that comes with her swimming lesson.
It’s all go-go-go up until Monday afternoon. Pick up from kinder… go through her bag… clean up… much-required coffee… more clean up… get her ready for swimming… get in the car…
Just like the kids jumping into the water, there is a –
I breathe. Sit back against the wall. There is commotion and voices all around me but it becomes white noise as I focus on being still.
Breathe in….. Breathe out.
My hands are collapsed on my lap. Eyes are glassy, reflecting the water in front of me. My pupils dance as the children leap and dive, splash about and swim with arms thrashing all about them.
I breathe in…. and I breathe out.
I stare blankly at the sights before me. The humidity of the room creeps into me, covering every inch of my body, seeping into every garment I am wearing, forcing the tension and stresses of the day to flee away.
I start to smile. When baby girl waves and looks at me in recognition, I nod. Hold a thumbs up. I usually look at my phone at times like this – 1 minute head down, 2 minutes head up. And on it goes, ’til the 30 minutes are up.
Breathe in… breathe out.
But this time I hold the phone, for minutes upon end. I don’t look down. I don’t need to be entertained. I don’t need to think about other things, read about other things, or even laugh about other things.
I need to centre my scattered thoughts.
And suddenly, like a swimming board clapping down against the water, the children are exiting the pool, and just like that my reverie is broken.
My 30 minutes of calm are up.
A dripping, overly-excited, goggle-eyed girl, stands before me, threatening to spill water all over me if I move the wrong way.
Wide-eyed. Wild expressions dance on her face, and I read the future antics in her head in a heartbeat.
My girl is back.
And my work, once again, begins.