I’ll tell you what’s cold: the pool at the Y. The Who and I have been taking “Mommy and Me” swimming lessons since he was ten months old and until now, they’ve always been in the bath-water-warm Therapy Pool. But, this is the last class he’ll be in before he graduates to the Big Kid classes (where I get to stay in my civvies and watch from behind a window; I can’t wait!) So, this time, we’re in the big, cold pool as — I can only assume — preparation for what’s to come. I can’t say that either of us is really stoked about it. (For the record, it did seem warmer this week than last week, so maybe they’re working on it? Or maybe the difference was our entering via the zero-entry ramp vs. slipping in from the side like we did last time. I don’t know. I was just grateful that, today, The Who could focus on kicking and paddling and bubble-blowing instead of his actually chattering teeth.)
Wanna know what else is cold? A hard, plastic toilet seat in a room without insulation when the outside temperature dips below 50. No thanks.
And one more thing that’s cold: The Who’s bedroom. We have forced hot air heating and his room is on the second floor, all the way in the back of the house, which means he gets the heat last. Since he was an infant, we’ve had a [safe, plastic, electric] space heater in his room that kept it pretty toasty, but it seems that this year, he has an opinion and that opinion is, very clearly, no heater. So, whereas last winter, we kept him in pretty much the same jammies that he had worn all summer (we have central air), it seems that this winter is going to call for more fleece. I can’t say I’m disappointed, to be honest. A big hug from a freshly bathed boy, smelling sweetly of orange, wrapped in warm fleece is nothing I’d ever turn down.