Showers of blessing

Too, too comical this afternoon. I'd almost written a post this morning that just said, "Send rain. NOW." Honestly, we're withering away here in a city (that I love) that manages to be hot, humid, AND dry at the same time. Go figure.

So we made plans to meet my friend Greta and her five kiddos for swimming this afternoon. I truly love this family, and Ian always has a blast with their zany kids (11, 9, 6, and 1 y.o. [undiagnosed!] twins]. The girls enjoy watching, occasionally participating, and lugging their babies around.

It started sprinkling here -- oh blessings! -- ten minutes before we were to leave, but I called her and we decided to meet anyway, since she was already halfway there. We arrived, and the pool was closed for a 30-minute break due to thunder. No problem, the kids go crazy on the playground.

No more thunder; lifeguard blows whistle, pool is open for business. We move eight kids from playground to pool, and the older four jump in. They play for precisely two minutes. Thunder. Lifeguard blows whistle again. Another thirty-minute break. Back to the playground for a raucous round of sliding pebbles and bodies down what is probably the tallest playground slide in Austin. It's metal. And wet. Therefore irresistibly shiny and SLIPPERY! Injuries during this activity: three.

No more thunder; lifeguard blows whistle; pool is open for business. Another mass migration. We get three minutes this time, just enough for me to schlep to the car for towels and goggles. Thunder. Lifeguard blows whistle AGAIN. Another thirty-minute break. Kids, totally unfazed, haul themselves out and head on over to the swings to see how they can further stretch the boundaries of Proper Playground Equipment Usage. Complaints: zero.

As I'm writing this, it occurs to me how differently the afternoon would have gone had it just been my own small clan there. The constant disruption of the pool, the insistent sprinkling from on high, would have been painfully felt and loudly noted. And the kids might have been worse. ;-)

But because we were among friends, both the kids and I could just enjoy the time for what it was -- time to be moms and kids together. There didn't have to be a POINT. Nothing needed to be accomplished. No "we came, we saw, we conquered." To borrow from a proverb often bestowed at weddings, in good company the joys are doubled and the sorrows (or in this case, minor annoyances), cut in half.