Last winter, our city hosted the Canada Winter Games. Since single-seat, single-event tickets were almost impossible to come by, we didn’t actually get to watch any of the events. Like most locals, our exposure took the form of nightly free outdoor concerts downtown (so cold! get your Canadian winter street-cred here! take two children under the age of 6 to an outdoor concert when it’s -20C!).
Oh, and the great venues constructed for some of the events.
One, the outdoor speed-skating oval, was a huge deal. When competition wasn’t going on, the oval was open – for free – to just come and skate. Round and round, while music played. It was a magical few weeks. All day and into the night, thousands turned out to skate. Many families – ours included – bought skates for everyone and took the kids out for their first steps onto the ice. Bringing it back every winter is an expense the taxpayers are not only happy to incur, there has been huge public demand. I’m excited to see if forward-thinking councilors can carry the day on this one.
And the other major “legacy” project is the Canada Games Centre, a massive aquatics & fitness complex in suburban Halifax. It’s got a huge field house, gymnasiums, an indoor track, lots of pools and things…
AND THIS WATERSLIDE.
Now, I love me some waterslides. In theory. I think they’re neat. There is this horrible little waterpark near here, and as a kid I would see the TV commercials with all the other children whipping down those waterslides and I would want to go so. very. badly. and I never could. Trips to waterparks were one of those things that just didn’t happen when I was a kid. Too expensive. So I yearned.
In eighth grade I went to Ottawa to visit a friend, and her dad took us to some enormous waterpark near Gatineau. Waterslides! Big ones! With tubes to ride down and tunnels and steep drops and WOW. I was having a blast, until I went down this crazy high steep thing and by the time I got to the bottom my bikini top had come completely off and was dangling around my neck. And when you’re just-barely-fourteen and have a DD chest, this is traumatic.
I never went on a waterslide again.
But then! The Canada Games Centre. Driving by the facility for months, as it slowly grew out of the wilderness. And that bright yellow waterslide called to me. Every time.
Today, we finally went to the centre with the kids. And it really is a gorgeous, wonderful facility – truly a beautiful addition to the community, and a place we will spend lots of time in, especially during the winter months.
The waterslide is just as cool on the inside of the building.
Handsome Hubby went first. We waited for him at the bottom and he came down pretty fast, but his bathing suit remained where it should, as did everyone else’s. “It’s not dark in there, either” he said, knowing that I’m not so good in dark confined spaces. “You should go!”
So, I did. Acting so cool because who is scared of a pussy little waterslide? Not me, that’s who. I hauled my 33 year old overweight ass up those million and one wet, slippery stairs, little kids running (!!) past me as I climbed. I got to the top and looked down. I adjusted my swimsuit. I was next in line.
Then I saw the sign with the safety rules. Rule number four – “Pregnant women, the elderly, and those persons with heart conditions are not permitted to use the slide”.
I didn’t go. Realistically I probably could have, after all, I’m not even showing yet. And I CLIMBED ALL THOSE STAIRS. I WAS BRAVE. But no – I climbed back down again, probably looking like the biggest wuss at the swimming pool, because of course I don’t *look* pregnant yet. I just looked like a blobby suburban mom too chicken to go down the waterslide.
I’m due January 6th. As god is my witness, as soon as my stitches heal up, I am going down that waterslide.