Public Pools Are A Clean-Freak Mom’s Personal Hell. Here’s How I Cope Anyway.
A survival guide for germaphobes whose kids love to swim.

I want to be a carefree, laidback parent. The unfortunate hitch? I’m anal-retentive. On top of that, I lived through the pandemic, when we all learned that humans are gross. I mean, we literally had commercials to remind people to wash their hands. So, “carefree” is simply something no one will ever call me. Public bathrooms, older restaurants, public transportation — they’re all hard for me. Public pools, though, are a new level of hell. Something deeper, darker, and far more disgusting.
If you’re even slightly uptight, you probably know what I mean. You never know if that puddle in the bathroom is chlorine or urine. Is this bench wet from a bathing suit or an accident? And we’ve all witnessed those water-bloated pads sticking half-out of the trashcans. *shudder*
Here in the thick of summer, though, the temperature hovers somewhere between 80 and 100 degrees in a large swath of America. You’d be happy to lie on the couch in front of the A/C vent for the rest of summer. But your kids have other hopes, dreams, and needs. They need to get out of the house... and they’re desperate for you to take them to the pool.
How can you make a trip to a public pool fun without triggering a panic attack? Here’s what I do.
Choose a No-Touch Sunscreen
Seriously. It’s easy to experience sensory overwhelm at the pool between strange flailing kids, wet chairs, etc. Start your day with one less slimy feeling and choose a sunscreen that won’t give you the ick. We usually go with sprays, but I like the Boon sunscreen sponge when I’m traveling because it meets all the TSA requirements. Plus, I can trust my kid to use it on her own, which I definitely cannot say after last summer’s spray-to-the-eyes incident. I’ve heard a make-up brush or sponge also works great for applying lotion.
Pick a Pool That’s Close
This won’t work for everyone; I know. But we go to the YMCA that’s a five-minute drive from our house. Why is that helpful? If you don’t have a long drive home, you can wait to change in your own bathroom instead of the always soggy public changing area. We bring extra towels for our seats or to bundle up in, and we just hustle home after our swim. Bonus: You should really rinse off the chlorine after you swim, so my kid goes straight from the pool to the car to the bathtub.
Carry a Waterproof Bag
I’m a canvas tote girly through-and-through, but when summer comes that no longer works. It (and everything inside) will inevitably end up soaked on the first pool trip of the year. When summer comes, I opt for something more plastic-y. I like the sturdiness of a Bogg Bag for the pool at home. It can hold purse essentials and pool essentials and sit directly on the ground with no issue. I can literally take a Clorox wipe to it, too, if I’ve sat it in something that gives me extra ick. For traveling, I like a Case-Mate bag. They’re waterproof-ish, collapsible for the suitcase, and stylish enough for the pool or anywhere else.
Bring a Grocery Bag
To put wet things in. To sit on. To use as a glove. My partner makes fun of my “bag of bags.” But they save me from a mental breakdown every summer.
Go Early
Your seat won’t be wet if you’re the first butt that’s been on it that day, and the pool is usually calmer the earlier you go. While it’s actually safer to be inside during the hottest part of the day, that still tends to be when most people show up for aquatic relief. Get there early to avoid the crowds, beat some of the grossness, and save yourself from a wicked sunburn.
Keep Hand Sanitizer and Disinfecting Everywhere
I have sprays and wipes in my bag and in the car. Why both? Because there’s nothing worse than making it to the pool and then back to the car without incident, only to throw your purse in the trunk and look over to see your kid playing in a puddle. Instead of digging through wet towels, it’s easier to grab your other wipes from your glovebox and then just move on with your life.
Don’t Fall Into the Overstimulation Trap
My last piece of advice? Just don’t go if you’re already triggered. Your kid spilled their milk. Your kitten missed the litter box. The kitchen smells like last night’s enchiladas. It’s 9 a.m., and you’re already overstimulated and snapping at everyone. While getting outside and giving your cooped-up kiddos something to do might help, adding the sensory nightmare of a public pool won’t end well for any of you.
Turn them loose in the backyard. Take a break from monitoring screen time. Do whatever you need to do to regulate yourself before stepping out of a bad morning and into a damp, crowded hellscape. It’s OK to skip the pool if you know you’re too keyed up to make it any fun.
And might I recommend an extra nap?