One of the major benefits of living in a region of the country that is akin to the seventh circle of hell in August, is that one can swim in Apri!
We decided to take our first dip on Saturday:
This is the best picture I got of my son. He is impossible to photograph right now. I fear that one day he’s going to accuse me of favoring the baby as a result of the complete lack of decent photos of him from the age of three to God knows when.
Also, I know you won’t believe me, but for once their color coordination was accidental. I promise!
Genevieve’s swimsuit has a bit of a story. Before Dan and I were even contemplating a second child, my Mom and I saw this little collection in a store. It was all blue with white polka dots and little goldfish appliques. We died. We contemplated buying some of it for my hypothetical daughter but I decided that would be counting my hypothetical chickens, so to speak. As it turns out, I became pregnant with a daughter within a year, and I happened to know the release pattern at this brand’s outlet (because I’m a freak), AND the adorable little goldfish stuff could be expected to come out at the outlet during the summer of 2011.
I stalked the outlet. Nothing. I was perplexed. I googled the line. Get this. Pepperidge farm (the makers of goldfish crackers) SUED Gymboree over the line, because the ridiculously simple goldfish outline sort of resembled their crackers. My mind = blown. I’m guessing this is why the line didn’t get reproduced for the outlets.
I’LL GET YOU PEPPERIDGE FARM AND YOUR FRIVOLOUS LAWSUIT TOO!
I was saddened, but then a friend very generously sent me her little goldfish swimsuit when she heard of my plight. How awesome is she?
So I was determined to get a frameable photo yesterday, as Genevieve is big for her age. I sort of had to wrestle her into the 6-12 month size suit and the odds are not good that she’ll ever wear it again.
I set her up in a pretty little spot:
I get this. Stone cold baby.
Me: “Genevieve! GENEVIEVE! GENEVIEVE!“
“Look! French fries!”
“Aaaagh! Baby girl!”
(Genevieve glances distainfully just beyond my left toe)
(My father happens to walk behind me on his way from the garage to the house)
(My father disappears into the house)
I see where he and I are respectively on the totem pole of Genevieve’s affections….
And then I let her actually hit the water for about an hour. She loved it, as did Payne. Yay!
Ooh, here’s another story. One of those parenting moments that brings intense humility.
So we’ve always been sort of anti-flotation device for Payne. Dan was a life guard and swim instructor in high school and we both felt like “Swimmies” and the like brought a false sense of security that could be dangerous. So for the last three years taking him swimming alone was kind of a full contact sport involving a string of minor heart attacks on my part. When it came time to fathom taking them both to the pool by myself I might have wanted to die.
I was talking to my sister in law recently and she mentioned that Puddle Jumpers had sort of saved her life with her very adventurous four year old. I’d heard of these before, and with summer looming ahead, began to consider this potentially sanity saving possibility.
Then I ran across the single non-pink Puddle Jumper left at Target and grabbed it like it was a gallon of milk on the eve of a Hurrican landfall. Dude. Parental ideals be damned, I’m so jazzed at the virtual guarantee of entering and exiting the pool with two living children. He did really well with it yesterday, so yay for sanity saving flotation devices!