The Water Park

During Sam's toddlerhood in Sandy Hill, we spent many long summer afternoons in our two neighbourhood water parks—the splash pad at Chapel Street Park and the wading pool at Strathcona Park—later moving to Owl Park (or Pirate Park, as he called it) when we became suburbanites, or nearly so. So much a part of his city-kid summer were those parks, that when Grandpa pulled out the sprinkler at Laddie Lane, two-year old Sam called out excitedly to Carter, "Wookit! A water feature!" As hectic as it could sometimes be chasing after mischevious boys, I loved our time there: our little camp in the shade, complete with picnic blanket, snacks and drinks, towels, pull-ups, sunscreen, wet wipes, dry clothes ... the list goes on—honestly, I don't know how I fit it all (plus the boys!) in the wagon.

In the last year or two, we've managed just a handful of picnics at Brewer Park, where the two-level water pads complete with a high-powered canon is only part of the attraction—Sam spends as much time on the play structures as he does enjoying the water. Maybe the fact that he's in swimming lessons now and so heading to a real pool once a week is part of the reason we've not been out to the wading pools. But I think it's really just a vague sense that he might better enjoy something else. Now that Anabel is two, however, and we're looking for activities all the kids can partake in, we've renewed our interest in visiting some of Ottawa's 56 outdoor pools this summer.

When Jacquie was in town, we spent a fun afternoon and pizza picnic at Pebble Park, the kids moving back and forth between the large wading pool and the play structure. And yesterday, we logged three blast-from-the-past hours at Strathcona Park, enjoying some play time in the shallow splash pool. In this shot, Anabel and Sam are playing catch while Carter swings in the background. The kids "dove" for rings, sailed Titanic excursions, and repeatedly climbed in an out of the pool with a beach ball (chances are you can line each activity up with the right child). We took a break to feed the ducks on the river, but otherwise the kids paused their pool play only to reapply sunscreen or slurp another juice. It was like old times.

I couldn't help pseudo-spying on some of the moms who were following close on the heels of their little ones—making sure they didn't run along the pool side, that they shared their toys nicely, that they kept their sunhats on, that they were happy. I looked at their packed strollers, their little camps in the shade, and I appreciated their efforts in a way I don't remember appreciating my own. It's wonderful to be out in the park with your toddlers, of course, but it's also an exhausting undertaking—the packing, the vigilance, the lessons, the care. Looking around the pool, you can see that it's all about the kids. Every ounce of effort is about making the day a good day for them.

Sitting in the shade for a few minutes on my own, I felt the difference between this visit and our last. Sam now moves independently between the "ruins," the swings and the pool, capable of park play without a hovering mother heading off any number of potential catastrophes. Oh, he still includes me, taking me on pretend sea voyages or asking me to watch how far he can throw bread crumbs into the river. He trusts that I'm still fully available to him, still interested in his every move. But he no longer needs me to stick close by as he ventures nervously through the water. And he doesn't need help doing up his sandals, getting the straw into his juice box, etc.etc. I'm a want, but not a need.

As I watch Tracey trail along behind Anabel (making sure she doesn't slip, that she's sharing pool toys, that she keeps her sunhat on...) I realize I'm okay with leaving the "arm's reach" stage behind. I take the phrase from the wading pool rules: parents of non-swimmers and young children must stay within arm's reach. Me, I can sit up the hill a ways, enjoying the antics from a slight remove. It's nice, this relaxing of effort. Still, it's telling that this is my favourite photo of the day. The boys are sipping juice on the picnic blanket, waiting for the attendants to re-open the pool following a chlorine treatment. True, their focus may be elsewhere, but they're still very much a part of our little family camp in the shade. In so many ways they don't yet understand, they couldn't do this without us. We're still making great days for our kids. It's what moms do.