Because I live in the Southwest, we have a swimming pool. I hate having a swimming pool, but it is great in the summertime because it gets so flippin' hot around here. When we moved into this house my twin boys were 2 1/2 years old. My two Curious Georges: they could wreak havoc and still be so innocent and cute. I spent months learning how to clean the pool and had it just right and then I went out to the back because we had a construction project going on back there. We were removing rock to put in a little bit of grass so that our kids could have a place to play. My husband had put a chain lock on the door so our kids wouldn't drown and we thought everything was fine. Well, one beautiful morning the twins got up before me and used a broom to knock the chain off. Then I caught them out around the pool (no, they did not know how to swim, so I am so grateful no one drowned) throwing in mountains of rock and clay. It looked like a swimming hole you would find in rural Georgia. All my work was ruined. I was so furious.
And so that has set the tone for the relationship of the pool, me, and my darling little twins. They throw things into the pool, the pool stops working, and then I get furious. Over the years it has gotten better, but there always manages to be some kind of foreign object in the pool that should not be there, and that the wind could have never dumped into it. Today it was two large rocks with a splattering of sand. Yes, once again, rocks in the pool!!!
So when can I strangle my kids?
On another note, I managed to get to the gym with my kids in tow, and after my sculpt class I ran another mile. Today my time was 9:25. So I am getting faster. I am working towards consistent low 8 minute miles, then I will be back where I was before I got pregnant.