My tomorrow is usually a lot like today. And yesterday.
And the day before.
Seriously. It is. The same exact routine.
Wake at 6am, shower and get ready for work. Get toddler ready for school, let dogs out, drop kid off at school, stop for coffee, start work at 8am. Work. Eat lunch at 2pm. Work. Leave work at 4:30pm. Pick up kid. Go home. Let dogs out and feed them. Make and eat dinner. Play with toddler. Bathe kid. Put kid to bed. Watch television, read, or write. Let dogs out. Sleep. Wake up in the middle of night to let old dog out. Go back to sleep.
In that order.
At least every work day. Monday through Friday.
But tomorrow a monkey wrench gets thrown into the mix. Our routine is changing.
Our little man starts swim school. The swim academy, actually. Because I’m terrified he is going to drown.
Growing up my neighbor who lived across the street had an in ground pool. Twice I found their elderly dogs floating in their pool. Dead. I cannot shake that from my memory.
A decade ago a young child drowned at my father’s company picnic. I cannot shake that mother’s screams from my mind.
Our son is going to Arizona to stay with his grandparents for 10 days in March and also for a couple of days this September. You literally walk out of their patio door and in ten steps you are in their in ground pool.
I don’t sleep.
All I can think about is getting that call. That call he fell in. No one saw him go out there. It happened so fast.
And I’m instantly sick to my stomach.
I’m not comfortable with him going there for that reason and for that reason only. So, I’m taking every precaution I can.
To teach him.
To save himself.
So tomorrow starts a new routine. Our Thursday routine. Because in between dinner and putting him to bed, he’s going to learn to swim.
I’m nervous and excited. But most of all,a huge weight of panic and guilt is starting to lift.
Tomorrow he learns.
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