Testing the Waters

I learned to swim when I was pretty young (less than 2 years old) so I have no memory of ever being afraid of the water. Swimming was always the preferred summer pastime of my youth, and my sister and I would spend hours and hours playing in the pool: perfecting our swan dives and backdives and cannonballs and front handsprings (in retrospect, the front handsprings were probably not the brightest idea), synchronized swimming and water ballets and races and diving for pennies that would always inevitably end up beyond reach in the deepest end of the pool. My sister achieved legendary status at the swim club when she happily jumped off the diving board (into my mom's waiting arms) at the ripe old age of 21 months, bulging soggy diaper and all. And my brother....lord knows that child made so many falls into our backyard pool that he practically taught himself to swim by default. 

So when I signed Caroline up for swim lessons late this past spring I envisioned another champion water-lover continuing in the Herrod tradition. I knew she loved bathtime from the day she was born, and that she always enjoyed splashing around in the shallow steps of bill's sister's pool. All indications that she would take to swimming like a duck in water.

Alas, it was not to be. Instead I've created the shrieking water-hating banshee. She now associates all pools=swim lessons, so she goes bananas and cries and clings to me. She wants NOTHING to do with the pool.

At least I can take comfort knowing that I have achieved my goals of making sure she won't drown. Swim lessons were effective in that a) she now hates the pool so much that she cries as soon as she SEES one, so I'm quite sure she will never voluntarily approach one on her own free will and b) she has mastered the survival float. We did swim lessons for 10 minutes a day, 5 days a week, for 3 and a half weeks and she cried during every.single.lesson. I was hoping that as she mastered her skills she would grow more confident and not cry, but that never happened.  Instead, she started figuring out where we headed each day and began crying sooner and sooner. At first she didn't start crying till we pulled up to the house. Then it began as soon as we entered the neighborhood. Then it was as soon as we got on the interstate. Now she cries as soon as I pull out her swimsuit. Luckily though she's still fine playing at the splash pad, so I am crossing my fingers that the pool at our beach condo has a toddler-friendly splash area.

So here she is demonstrating her new survival float skills. She has only 2 more lessons next week, where she'll practice falling from the side of the pool, in fully-clothed conditions, so it would closely mimic a real-life situation. She passed with flying colors. She can save herself if she ever falls into the water. But given the fact that she now abhors the water, I don't think we really have to worry about her approaching any water bodies. (NOTE: She leaned over and took a big bite out of my shoulder right before I handed her over to her swim teacher. She was NOT HAPPY about going swimming and she decided to share her emotions with her teeth.) (Also note: on all these videos press the small grey rectangle button next to the words "you tube" on the bottom right of the screen to make the video pop up larger.)

She's also been testing the waters in a more figurative sense as well. I wouldn't say that we've reached the full-blown terrible two's (which can begin way sooner than their second birthday), but she is definitely pushing the boundaries and seeing what she can get away with. She absolutely knows what activities are off-limits, but she tries to get away with them anyway. She smiles and says 'no no no' as she plunges her hands into Winnie's water bowl and splashes to kingdom come. She looks back and watches me as she approaches the tv and starts pushing buttons. She loves to drop food from her high chair in slow-motion fashion, stretching arms out, hands loaded with food, watching me for my reaction. Then SPLAT. (Sometimes this sequence is altered when she notices Winnie standing near her chair, in which case she will first offer him a bite. Mr. picky-eater-pug has become a big fan of whatever she's handing out, rom grilled cheese to green beans.) If she's standing in her little chair and I tell her to sit down, she complies, then stands right back up again. 

But it's hard to stay angry for long when she turns on the charm two seconds later. She thinks laughter is contagious, so anytime anyone laughs she laughs too. (One of her favorite exhibits at the Children's museum is a little window with shutters; when you open the shutters a recording of a baby laughing plays. She thinks it's HILARIOUS and laughs right along with it. She'll stand there for a good 3 minutes opening and closing the shutters, laughing away.) She loves to dance and will happily practice her moves at a moment's notice, whether listening to a good jam at the grocery store or rocking out in her carseat.

She also loves to be a good 'helper' and will usually obey simple commands: "go get your shoes from the closet and bring them to me" "go put your pajamas in the laundry basket" "pick up your blocks and put them in the box". One cute little trick she developed on her own is handing me my towel when I turn off the water in the shower. She stops whatever she's doing, toddles over to the tub, and picks up my towel and hands it to me.

Dr. Jekyl, meet Mr. Hyde. How can the same sweet baby who hands me my towel each day also be the same shrieking demon who took a chomp out of my shoulder?? Ah the joys of toddlerhood. I guess she and I are both learning how to navigate this unchartered territory. I'm being tested in my patience levels, and she's being tested in everything else, from verbal skills to swimming skills to dancing skills. I supposed one day we'll look back and marvel how quickly we sailed from one phase to another! 

Griswolds at the blueberry farm

Pick your own fresh blueberries!

It sounded like a good idea. But the road to hell is paved with good intentions, and apparently, so is the road to the blueberry farm. Our innocent little day trip turned out to be an epic fail worthy of a national lampoons screenplay.

When Bill's sister invited us to join them on a berry hunting excursion on Saturday I eagerly accepted, visions of homemade blueberry pie dancing in my head. Being the city slickers that we are, our only knowledge of blueberries was that they came in a little plastic carton at the grocery store. We had no idea of the labor-intensive swooping and bending that is involved in gathering the little buggers. And to make matters worse, I had taken my very first step aerobics class at the gym the day before, and awoke on Saturday morning to every single muscle in my legs screaming in agony. EPIC BERRY FAIL #1. So I popped a few Advils and we all loaded into the car and set out on our journey.

The second mistake was choosing to meet Bill's brother and sister and spouses/kids at Cracker Barrell for breakfast before voyaging out to the farm. Don't get me wrong, the hash brown casserole was delicious, but it meant that we didn't arrive at the farm till about 10:30. EPIC FAIL #2: it was already 87465827 degrees outside. EPIC FAIL #3: Being 10:30, this meant every single other person within the entire city of Houston had beat us to the farm. I kid not. This was the scene that greeted us upon arrival.

This would rival
rush hour in the Houston Galleria.

Not a good sign when your fun-filled family produce gathering journey could be mistaken for the parking lot of Disneyworld. We thought surely they must be running some kind of 'buy 1 pound of berries, get 10 pounds free!' special. But no. This was just blueberry picking season in Texas.

So we parked on the side of the road behind the other cars lined up, loaded up the kids and strollers and hats and sippy cups and sunscreen and baby carriers, and started trekking to the entrance gate. After we'd been walking 10 minutes in the sweltering sun we began to question how much further the entrance gate would be. 15 minutes into the walk people who were driving out of the facility were rolling down their car windows and telling us how there was ample parking up by the entrance gate. 20 minutes into the walk and we were audibly cursing Justin for his choice of parking locations. After twenty-two minutes of schlepping along the hot dusty road we finally arrived at the entrance. And lo and behold, there were more open parking spots than you could shake a blueberry stick at. So Justin and Bill decided to take one for the team and walk alllll the way back to the cars and move them into one of the closer spots. EPIC FAIL #3: After they'd been gone about 5 minutes Kristen realized she had the keys to their car. So Jeff picked up the relay torch and grabbed the keys to go bring them to Justin. 

So the 2 Kristens and I and the kids finally rounded the corner at the entrance gate, ready to get our berry hunting on. And this is what we saw when we walked in.

Nothing says 'family fun' like sweating in line
for 30 minutes with 875 other sweaty folks.

EPIC FAIL #4: a line of people as far as the eye could see, waiting to pay for their blueberry bounties. We made a unanimous decision that when the boys returned from moving the cars they should automatically jump into line and start the waiting process. Do not pass go, do not collect any blueberries. Just stand in the heat so we and the kids don't have to.

We huffed our way past the never-ending line, growing all the more fearful of how my husband would react when he realized his fate. (Patience is not his strong suit. Patience in the 900 degree sweltering heat, even less so.) We strolled past color-coded signs, presumably indicating different types of blueberries but we had no idea what they were, so we just settled on the first bush that looked like it had a fair amount of berries available.

Cousin Riley was somewhat skilled in the berry-hunting department, being able to distinguish the ripe blueberries from the pink un-ripe ones. So she happily tackled her task and gathered a respectable (for a 2 year old) amount of berries. Baby Caroline on the other hand was not interested in searching for berries. She was much more interested in running and roaming and wandering off out of sight. So my berry hunting consisted of whatever I could grab as I was dashing off to catch her.

We decided to take turns waiting in the line, so eventually Bill made his way back to the berry hunters. After, oh, 15 minutes of intensive gathering (one of us gathering berries, the other one gathering the runaway child) we were the very definition of HOT MESS. Surely this is where the phrase originated. Luckily the line seemed to be moving faster than we thought so it was time to go join the spot-holders and pay for our berries. Justin and I stood in line to pay, while the others went straight to the cars to cool off and load up the kids.

smile and say 'immigrant labor!'

As we were waiting in line I couldn't help but notice that most people's buckets looked like this.

we decided that this guy, and everyone else, had
been gathering berries since approximately 4:30 am.

And after all our efforts, with 6 adults and 2 kids, our bucket looked like this.

is this even enough to make a pie??

EPIC FAIL #5: we probably wasted more money in gas getting to the farm than we would have just buying a carton of blueberries at the store. But as the great Clark Griswold says, "It's all part of the experience, Russ." Except we were more in danger of heat exhaustion than hypothermia, but the principle remains the same. Extreme physical discomfort is the only way to develop greater appreciation for the convenience of store bought items. Another good reason to say in school, kids!

Being utterly sweat-soaked and exhausted from our little adventure, we all decided that a dip in the pool at Kristen and Justin's house is just what the doctor ordered. So we drove all the way back to their house, suited up, and hopped in the pool. And then came EPIC FAIL #6: Because Caroline has decided that pool = swim lessons, she cried the ENTIRE time we were in the pool. Whereas before swim lessons she would happily splash and play in the pool, this time she just cried cried cried. I was cursing myself up and down for ever embarking on that bright idea. 

So we finally had to cut our losses and hop out of the pool, which was the only way to make her stop crying. This does not bode well for our pool-centered beach vacation next month. I have no idea what we're going to spend our time doing if she spends 5 days eating sand on the beach and crying at the pool. Looks like there might be a lot of mini-golf and souvenir shopping in our future....

So stay tuned for the next fun-filled family adventure next month. I have no doubt we'll be making the Griswolds look good again.

summer fun

Now that summer is in full swing we have been constantly on the go, trying to keep busy and stay cool until the blessed fall arrives. And believe me, I am COUNTING DOWN the days until the cooler weather returns. Somehow I escaped last summer with absolutely no memory of how we spent our days (was I still in a baby daze?) so I had to start from scratch when conjuring up our new daily routine.

First up: joining a gym. Now that it's 8768374 degrees outside at 8:30 am, running inside on a treadmill is an absolute necessity. Seeing as I have never once set foot inside a gym, I left Bill in charge of selecting one for us to join. As we were discussing the facility he'd chosen I realized we were having one of those 'you know you've become parents when....' moments: you know you've become parents when you choose a gym based on not which one has the newest equipment or the most flexible hours, but instead which one has the nicest daycare. So we signed up for a family membership and now Petunia will be lifting baby barbells and tightening those chunky thighs in no time. Just kidding. The family membership lets us all enjoy the indoor and outdoor pools.

When you've got a bod like this, might
as well flaunt it!

Next up: swim lessons so Caroline can actually make good use of her gym membership! That, and we're going to Gulf Shores next month and staying at a condo with an enormous pool so I wanted to be sure she had some sort of aquatic survival skills in place. So far she's only had 4 lessons, due to the teacher's canceling class for a week due to family illness. As much as I was hoping she would just hop in the water and start backstroking, it has been a bit of an adjustment for her. AKA, she cries. Every time. I can't blame her though, I know learning to swim is scary at any age. But she is doing very well at mastering her tasks thus far (going underwater, holding her breath, reaching for the side of the pool and pulling herself up, etc.) Here's a video from day 2 of lessons- learning to float!

Since she's not terribly fond of her swim lesson routine yet, I wanted to make sure she still has enjoyable experiences with water. We found a great little splash pad not far from our house at a neighborhood park and we've been making regular afternoon visits. She loves running through the fountains, splashing, and attempting to catch the streams of water in her mouth. (Somehow choking on a mouthful of water from a jet  is more enjoyable than choking on a mouthful in a pool, I guess.)

She also had her very first swim date/dinner date last weekend when we went to visit our friends Andy and Jackie and their sons. Bill and the guys set up daddy pool patrol around the kiddie pool, complete with lounge chairs and beers in hand. They were the quintessential picture of suburban manhood.

After working up an appetite in the pool she and her dinner dates enjoyed dining al fresco on chicken nuggets and tater tots. The best part of the meal, other than seeing 3 toddlers eating together like civilized little people, was the fact that she practically cleaned her plate! She has been eating solid foods well and I think the new medicine has been helping. (She's still waking up crying at night though so we're working on tweaking the dosage.)

Another great pastime that we've discovered this summer in the ingenious indoor playground. Why doesn't Houston have these on every block?? Think McDonald's indoor playplace, times 10 in scale. Bounce house, giant inflatable slide, ball pit, train ride, oodles of toys for babies, and a climbing sliding labyrinth that would make a hamster proud. 

Her favorite attraction was definitely the ball pit. Swimming in the balls, throwing the balls out of the pit, picking up the balls one by one and putting them back in the pit. I'd be happy to shell out $10 just to spend an entire afternoon doing this.

She was sorely tempted by the giant inflatable slide though, and kept walking slowly past it considering whether she was up to the challenge. Knowing that I would have to ride with her and being not particularly interested in sliding down germ-covered rubber that smelled like sweaty feet, I repeatedly tried to distract her with other items. It was a hard sell. She kept wandering back over to the dragon.

Dragon, shmagon. Check out this fun train! This is fun, right? Choo choo! She humored me for one brief trip around the tracks and promptly hopped out to ogle the giant inflatable bounce thing. She even tried to weasel her way through the gate but I swooped in and re-directed her back to the infant play area.

So between gym sessions, swim lessons, the zoo, the children's museum, the indoor playground, and the splash pad I think we have our entire summer accounted for. T minus 84 days until fall....


P.S. A little Winnie lagniappe. I was so proud of myself when I spotted a nice mesh harness on sale at target for 75% off! But it later occurred to me....I now own a male pug, named Winnie, who wears a pink harness. Poor dog is gonna have a gender identity crisis soon.