Fish

Early this month Libby got an invitation to a birthday party at Splash.  I'd never taken the girls, so I wasn't sure about it.  When we got there, they got their life jackets on and Libby immediately took off for the waves.  No fear.  I called her back to shore to see if Peyton wanted to ride the waves with her, which she did.  It's crazy.  It's stressful.  They got completely beaten up by the waves.  They loved every minute.  And since they have no fear of the water we decided now would be a good time to tap all that confidence and get them back into swim lessons.

We've done swim lessons before.  First here.  Then here.  But this time around the girls seem to have found their inner fish.

For the Grand Finale Libby jumped off of the platform into the deep end....

....and Peyton took a nap.

Kidding.  Really she looks like this for just about every moment she's in the pool.  

Swimming

On the way to swim lessons tonight Peyton SHOUTED from the backseat, "MOM!  MAAAAAHM!"

"WHAT?"

"You talked too long and I forgot what I was going to say, but I'll think of a new thing and I already thunked it."

I don't remember the new thing she "thunked", but I do know she often feels ah-nuh-nupted (interrupted) and not-so-heard.

-Sigh-

  My Bittiest Swimmah

After swim lessons we tried doing the shower and get into the pajamas routine while we were still at the pool.  I picked up this little bit of brilliance from observing other mommas who, I'm assuming, mean business about bedtime after late swim lessons.  What seemed like a great way to skip a few steps upon arriving home, was somewhat interrupted by a couple little boys who were in the shower since their primary present parent were of the mom variety.  And my two cherubs were all too interested in...... them.

At our bedtime talk, both agreed that they got what they deserved in the locker room when instead of tipping their soapy heads back into the shower and rinsing away the shampoo, they stared, mouths agape while soap ran into their eyes.  This was followed by crying and trying to rub their wet, soapy faces on my pants.  Uh....no.  Anyway, we talked about it and this is what Libby had to say:  "Mom, but penises are so cool."

"No. They're not."

"I bet scientists are going to study them someday."

Well, she might be onto something there.

Nips

From the backseat....

"Mom, I know everyone has nipples." -Peyton

I think she came to this conclusion on her own, though our recent cold temperatures may have provided some insight.  Genius, that one.

The Internet Is Ruining My Life

Okay, that may be a bit dramatic.  Read: Pinterest is killing me. I love it too much.  I might be ever so slightly addicted to mindlessly searching for project inspiration. Mind you, projects that I have not one spare minute to carry out. And so I think I'll just blame Pinterest for everything. Pinterest is the reason I rarely blog.  It's the reason I've burned gallons of gas in the last few days searching for the best tray to organize my bathroom drawer (though others who know me well might say I'm predisposed to certain organizational obsessions). Also, I'm blaming Pinterest for the full blown meltdown Libby is having in her room at the moment because she didn't get her way.  I don't know how it's Pinterest's fault, but that's where I'm pointing my finger.

I do know this for sure:  Pinterest makes me love things and then I believe that I have to make them.  And because they're most often DIY sorts of things they rob me of time.  And I don't have extra time to just throw around.  Last year, along with the rest of the internet connected world, I found these....

....and I had to make them for the girls.

This one is Lucy Bug's.  Cute huh?  

I never did finish them for my girls.  The mats are done, but I never put their names on them.  Mostly because after I finished the mats (in white so they could be bleached) I asked myself if I really wanted to take the time to wash them as much as they'd need to be washed.  And then I guess I got my answer when I just never finished them.  Besides, putting their names on them means then that they can't be bleached.  See, it's logistically...........too much.  I decided that, though I love them, we have a 90 lb. lab and he's all the floor pillow we need.  Plus he's the reason everything needs to be washed all the time, and the dirt and dog hair looks way more natural on him.

So, if you're interested, I have two.  They're both white.  One is finished with pink grosgrain ribbon like Lucy's.  The other is a blank canvas.  I think I have the new pillows in my attic to go with them, so it would be better if you are local or don't need them right away....

Here's to hanging up my obsessions.  Or at least finding some that don't take so much time....

Grateful

I'm trying to put some quiet back in my life and take up writing more.  We'll see....

....for today I'll just be grateful for this.

Seriously, No Photos.

Last week Libby told me she was going to walk to the cafeteria by herself.  This is a big deal.  Everyday she comes to school with me I ask her, "Do you want me to walk you to the cafeteria today, or are you going to walk yourself?"  Everyday until now she's wanted me to walk with her.  Then last week she informed me she was going it alone.  

"Okay.  That's cool."  I was totally nonchalant.  I snapped this picture, which mildly irritated her and then she told me to go into my classroom.  

That's my door on the left.  She's headed down that long hallway, into a gated breezeway, through another set of heavy doors to the cafeteria.  We said our good-byes and I went into my classroom.  

Then, I peeked out of my door and took this shot....

See her down there?  She's the teeny tiny one masquerading as a big girl in the gigantic hallway all by herself.  So I had to take a picture.  Then she turned around a caught me.

Oops. Ugh.

If you know my girl, then you know that she doesn't mind being the center of attention on her terms.  Well, on anyone's terms really.  Just not on mine.  That's the truth, really.  If I'm not present she will buck up every time.  If I'm there, or if, God forbid, I'm the one making a big deal or giving the attention....forget it. I embarrass her beyond reason.  I don't applaud unless I know she can't find me in the audience.  Except sometimes I forget.  Singing Happy Birthday is off limits.  More than once I've absentmindedly celebrated her successfully buckling her own seatbelt, in the privacy of our own car, only to have her cry the entire way to wherever we were going.  So you can imagine how this moment ruined her life.  She just fell apart right there where she's standing.  I recovered the pieces and delivered her teary self to the cafeteria.  You'd think I'd learn.  

Mr. Knows It

Any quotes that I post here usually come from my kids.  This one isn't.  I bet you can guess who this little exchange was between.

"Listen,  I know you think you know what you're talking about, but when it comes to this, I'd rather not give them the wrong information."

"Hey, I'm just making it right."

"No, you're making it up.  That's not the same thing."