Summer Fun...and Some Are Not.

Why would anyone be foolish enough to wake their kids early on Saturday mornings, especially now that it's summer? But that's exactly what many of us seem to be doing; at least those of us with kids on swim team.

This morning it was a seven-club relay swim meet. We had to be out the door by 7:30 even though the meet itself didn't begin until 9:00. Swim relays, it turns out, are more interesting than individual events--provided your child makes the relay team. In our case, Kevin is one of the four boys on our club's "six and under" team. Andrew is an alternate. Justin, who's joining swim team for the first year and has some catching up to do, did not make the relay team (nor did most of the other boys).

So at 7:30 I left with Kevin and Andrew, with Kathy and Justin planning to join us later. We found a shady spot, lathered up with sunscreen, and soon learned that all the boys were there, which meant Andrew would not be swimming. He had been forewarned and when I told him he took it quite well, still eagerly joining in the team cheers and then finding friends nearby to hang out with.

Swim meets are the classic example of "hurry up and wait." Usually, with three boys competing in three to four events each, we spend about three hours in the sun or frigid evening breezes to participate in no more than five minutes of swimming.

The girls go first in each age group, so the "six and under" girls raced and narrowly won their freestyle event during the final lap while we gathered to watch the boys. The boys' race was not as close, but again our team won, and all three of my boys seemed happy.

Two events to go. But first, much waiting as all the other age levels competed in the freestyle relay.

Then when Kevin's group was lining up for their second event I spotted one of his teammates crying and the coach frantically trying to calm him down. "Where's Andrew?" she asked in desperation as the seconds to the meet ticked down.

"I'll get him," I said, and dashed off. I found him having a snack, and with a hurried explanation I took the snack away and whisked him off, saying that he had to be ready in case the team needed him.

Oops!

Of course, any fool would know that by the time I returned (in under sixty seconds) the other boy's little goggle crisis (as it turned out) would be solved. So there I am with Andrew as high as a kite and ready to step in for his team, but no longer needed. Both his coach and I explained it to him and for a while he held it together.

His team went on and won their second relay event which meant a second cool medal for Kevin.

Now Andrew's disappointment was becoming tangible as I slowly realized just how much worse I had made things. Even as it dawned on me, too late, both what I had done and how it would be kinder to let the alternate swimmers enter at least one of the relay events, the morning continued as scheduled.

By the end of the third and final event for the young boys, Andrew was gradually becoming inconsolable. Another lesson learned. Justin was content; Kevin was excited (but not obnoxiously so); yet poor Andrew understandably struggled to overcome his disappointment at not having been able to swim in the one event.

This is the kind of experience other parents often ask us about. It's one of the many times when the boys see that not everything in their lives is equal or fair.

I think we're doing much better than I ever imagined, navigating these treacherous child-rearing seas, but this morning, compounded as it was by Dad's unthinking hastiness, was one reminder that some events will go much better than others.

Still, it worked out. Andrew felt better after lunch (McDonald's, his favorite) and seems fully mended.

And if we're right (just don't ask the boys), it will all even out over time.