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Oh, Go Jump in a Lake!
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I’m not a boat person.
Actually, I’m not a roller coaster riding, rock climbing, camping, race car driving, swimming, kind of person. Of course DW is ALL of those things, so I’m amazed everyday that he fell in love with me because we actually have very little recreational interests in common. I like to lay on the beach, soaking in the sun as the cabana boy brings me another drink. DW is jumping waves, skiing, snorkeling or riding high-powered jet skis.
I’ve taken three cruises. Apparently those are big enough boats that I not only manage, but forget that I’m on a boat. The only time I’ve really had a problem on them is when we can’t dock at port and have to ride one of those little boats to shore. My stomach turns queasy, my head pounds and I feel like I could hyperventilate any minute. I have been known to respond that way on a plane as well. However, on a plane, the destination is important enough to keep me motivated. The boat thing is just “for fun”.
Overall, it’s really a pleasant site and makes all the travelers with me very comfortable. (sarcasm.)
Of course, my in-laws and a handful of my friends all own boats that they frequently take on the lake. The kids love to tube, ski and just hang out anchored to swim. Last summer I finally got the courage to get on my father-in-law’s boat so that I could see my kids tube and DW ski. It was bearable, all things considered, even though I was the only adult wearing a life jacket and clinging white knuckled to the seat. But I got on the boat – I give myself kudos for that first step. It sucks to be afraid of something so silly. Afterall, I drive faster in my car than these boats ever go and I really am a decent swimmer. I’m not sure where this irrational behaviour comes from either. Perhaps it is just inexperience. We didn’t boat as a family when I was a kid, nor did we frequently lake swim. I get wigged out by the speed and feeling of “flying” that the boat creates but I also hate not being able to see the bottom of the lake if we are swimming. It’s creepy to think about living creatures brushing up against you in the murkiness.
I’ve missed so much time with my girlfriends and their families this summer too. Even time with my family, because they still go without me (as they should). Sometimes I meet them at the lake tavern for pizza and burgers afterwards. They are all still glistening with sun and sky while I am perfectly groomed, every hair in place. I’m jealous of their wet bathing suits, sweaty faces and wind-blown hair.
The Tortoise had one of her best friends spend the night on Friday, and the next day DW was going to take all the kids to meet the friend’s parents for a lake day. I was so tired of missing out. I wanted to be with my friends.
“How about I come too?”
Laughter erupted from all parties involved. I didn’t respond.
“Oh! You are serious?” A mix of excitement and dread. I’m sure they were worried I wouldn’t be able to cope, and then the whole day would be ruined. I was a little myself.
“Yeah – I’m totally serious. It’ll. Be. Fun.” I tried to say convincingly.
Saturday afternoon we got packed up. It only took me a half–hour to figure out the whole suit thing. I had done a pretty good job avoiding that this summer, but now I had to face my summer body. Just one more thing I love about the lake. I’m convinced I am the only mom in America that actually gains weight in the summer instead of losing it. The kids are home and I end up eating more of their leftovers, eat dinner really late at night, and of course consume a crazy amount of guacamole, chips and beer. I tend to slim down in the winter, which really matters not when you are hiding behind a full-length down parka every time you leave the house.
Anyway, among the Oreo cookies, goldfish, chex mix and beef jerky was nestled a six-pack of Mike’s Hard Lemonade. Our friends seemed genuinely happy to see all of us. They were even so kind to have brought an herbal oil to go behind my ears to help with motion sickness.
“Can I rub this all over my whole body to help with a general fear of everything?” I half-joked.
The weather was absolutely perfect. Hot and calm. The lake wasn’t even that crowded either. As soon as we got on the boat my heart began pounding. My eyes must have bugged out a little.
“I’ve also brought my own type of remedy for your motion sickness, Em,” joked my friend, as she showed me a cooler with 9 more Mike’s Hard Lemonade and a bag of Salt and Vinegar Chips.
“Good grief I love you,” I laughed.
(Just an FYI - neither of our husbands drink. So it is just us moms who are lushes.)
The only real moving we did was out to the swimming spot. The anchor was thrown, and the kids started jumping all around us. Ms. N and I spent the afternoon catching up and occasionally being splashed by our husbands. A few hours later another family joined us. The moms commandeered one boat, while the other took the kids tubing. I never had to move except to get out to the lake and back to the dock. It was perfect.
I am embarrassed that it took me so long to make the first trip. Obviously this was a baby step, but it was a step in the right direction. I also had to overcome another fear, which was learning to pee in public. Believe it or not, I’m not an exhibitionist nor have I ever partied too hard in college that I couldn’t make it to the bathroom. I’ve only camped twice in my life. The first time we were at a KOA campground, so that doesn’t count, and the second time I learned quickly to stop consuming any fluids after 4pm so that I wouldn’t need to pee in the woods behind our tent in the middle of the night.
It never occurred to me when I first got on the boat that I couldn’t just wait to get back to shore to empty my bladder. I hate public bathrooms and in 9 years of marriage the only time my husband has ever been in the bathroom with me while I was relieving myself was when I was in the hospital and needed his support. Literally. Although, I tried to avoid this massive “public bathroom” it was not possible. And believe me, it is not an easy feat when you have your children “cheering” you on from the side-lines.
“Come on mom! You can do it, you can do it! You can, you can! Just pee!”
I must say, the later in the day – the easier it got.
My 100th Post!
Schools have a “100th day of school” celebration, and towns have festivals to celebrate every 100 years, so I felt compelled to write something fantastical for my 100th blog post. However, the only thing on my brain at the moment is the fact that I am pretty sure I am going to fail puppy training class.
What? Me need training?
Luna and I had our first lesson on Friday. The original plan was for me and the girls to participate together, but unfortunately The Hare was sick and couldn’t attend. The Tortoise stayed with her until DW could get home. I had to leave – I didn’t want to make a bad impression on my first day, you know. It’s hard enough being one of the smallest in your class, I certainly didn’t want poor Luna to feel self-conscious by walking in after class started.
There were already two large black dogs present when we arrived. One appeared to be some sort of boxer mix, belonging to a rather sweet young newly married couple. Most likely their trial run at parenthood. The other one was a black lab, about a year old already, in charge of a mom and her young son. He was darting and dancing around his captives, trying to escape. I decided to sit on the farthest seat possible from both dogs.
“Oh! Your dog is so cute,” crooned the young married woman, with a sharp side glance at her husband.
Luna sat demurely on my lap, observing. With an air of princess hautiness, she puffed out her chest, cocking her head at every noise and unfamiliar movement. I must say, I was beaming with pride. We obviously were going to be a class favorite.
As the class started to fill up with more students, it became acutely clear that Luna was at a height and girth disadvantage. I started sizing up our competition with a little trepidation. Luna remained statuesque.
“Mam…mam…could you please move to the other side of the room. We have two more small dogs coming and I think it would be best to keep you together. Away from the big dogs.”
“Sure, of course.” I smiled sweetly wondering if next time I should bring a treat for the instructor’s dog, or an apple for the teacher.
Just a few minutes after I had moved, a family of five came trotting in with two eight week old puppies. One was a pure bred Shih Tzu and the other a Shih Tzu/Yorkie mix only weighing 1.2 lbs. It was hard to believe that any puppy would make Luna look gigantic. There were several “oohhs and awwwss” over the teeny Shorkie. Customers from around the store started to gawk outside the classroom windows, pointing to the freakishly small dog. We were being upstaged, so I obviously was going to need to turn up the charm.
Our first task was to introduce ourselves and say one thing that we would like to change about our dog. That was going to be tough, since there really isn’t anything I would change. Afterall, she is only four months old and all of her puppy behaviour is to be expected. I started to become a little uncomfortable listening to each family introduce themselves. Apparently, I had signed up for the “puppy problem” class and not the “puppy training” class.
“I would change the fact that she pees and poops in her crate when we are gone.”
“I would change the fact that she jumps and growls on everyone that comes to the door.”
“I would change the fact that he has destroyed all of my wood furniture with his chewing.”
“I would change the fact that he lunges at strangers when they get too close to me.”
And of course, the last one was sitting right next to me. A small Jack Russell Terrier that kept eyeing my sweet Luna. I started to take note of all emergency exits and objects light enough to be thrown at this terror of a terrier if an attack presented itself.
Then it was my turn. I struggled to find something, anything that wouldn’t make me stand out and unintentionally cause an overwhelming amount of jealousy. But nothing came to mind.
“Um…my name is Emily, and this is 4 month old Luna.”
Next please.
“You were supposed to say something you didn’t like.”
“Yes, I know, but there isn’t anything.”
The instructor’s eyes started to slant and sink into her thick skull, brows turned in, nose crinkled. I couldn’t help but notice the little bit of peach fuzz over her upper lip, making her look a little masculine with her ultra-short haircut. She was big too – I definitely wouldn’t want to meet her in a dark alley somewhere.
“Nothing? You want to try that answer again?”
I sank into my seat a little. Luna continued to sit quietly in my lap, unnerved. “Well, maybe I would change the fact that she doesn’t bark to let me know she has to go out? She just goes to the front door and sits and waits for someone to take her out.”
Good answer, good answer.
“Hmph..then that means you aren’t crate training. ” And then the instructor proceeded to give a lecture about the importance of crate training, tethering your dog to you at all times when not in a crate and of course never leaving food and water out during the day, except during schedule times.
After about 45 minutes of her lecturing, Luna decided she was done sitting quietly. I must admit, my restlessness was ready to show itself as well. I had crossed and uncrossed my legs several times, started daydreaming about what I was going to do on the first day of school. A pedicure, yes, a pedicure would be the first thing on my list once I waved goodbye to the bus. And then lunch outside, over wine and cheese, something very “un” kid friendly.
The Shih Tzu puppy next to us had finally woken up and was squeaking. Luna started dancing around my lap, tail wagging, trying to get his attention. Then she started pawing at the air, flagging him to look up. When that didn’t work she gave two sharp, quick yaps. I suddenly remembered we were actually sitting in a cramped, stinky, and very dog hair laden room and not enjoying the scenic city-scape of my little downtown area in the middle of the day.
The instructor stopped talking and handed me a water bottle.
“You must spray her with water every time she barks in public so that she knows that behavior is unacceptable.”
What? Yeah, no…that doesn’t work for me. Maybe if she hadn’t droned on for almost an hour and let these dogs move a little, there would be less tension. Up until that moment Luna hadn’t made a peep, in spite of all the other, bigger, louder dogs shoveling around trying to start a riot. I didn’t spray her – defiantly and the teacher took notice. She smiled that “you are really going to regret this” kind of smile and continued her lecture.
Thanks a lot mom!
1. Your dog needs to be tethered to you at all times – Luna has free range.
2.Your dog needs to sleep in a crate – Luna sleeps in my bed.
3. No public barking and absolutely no rough playing that might encourage nipping – DW provokes and encourages both
4.Food and water needs to be scheduled – Luna’s bowls are always left out.
I think I have ruined Luna’s chances of getting a good grade. Perhaps we can ask for a pass/fail.
