*This is not an ask for money*
*Do not start a therapy-pool fund or I’ll be forced to stab myself in the face with marshmallows*
*Sharp stuff hurts, yo*
*But, I am serious*
Peter’s trying to build something.
He’s always trying to build something. Or taunting me with the something that he’s going to build next.
There was Mr Myagi’s yard.
The ewok village.
A fort village made of water, pvc pipe, and a pool pump.
The dome house. The GIANT dome hose. The great big boob house.
But this time he’s determined to build something we can use.
I love getting in the pool.
It allows me the freedom to move in ways I don’t yet feel safe on dry land.
I walk, I stretch, I exercise, I make progress.
I truly believe part of the change I see comes from the work I do at the pool.
And we go to the pool at the Y as often as we can. Our kids love it. They are fantastic swimmers.
So recently it’s been a new thing for Pete to build a therapy pool.
Something we can use every day.
I could use after the kids go to sleep.
This is one that I’m hoping becomes a reality.
My body hopes it becomes a reality.