Little swimmer

SWIMMING LESSONS ARE OVER and phew. Because we have been wearing out the road between here and the pool, a 3K round trip, on foot, twice a day. My flip-flops are like slivers. We'd get there for lessons at 9 (not, as I thought the first day, 9:30 - there I am thinking I'm five minutes early only that class looks like little kids and Ashley, the teacher, let me slip Eleanor in for the last five minutes and then I'm like, There. That is a swimming lesson) and then I'd feed her lunch in the stroller at 10 in the morning

and then put her down for a nap at 10:30 because she had to be up again at 12:30 to have a snack and head back to the pool for her second lesson. IT WAS LABORIOUS.

Worth it, though, because Eleanor was just cranked to eleven the entire time. Whenever Ashley was like, Now we are doing leg kicks! Eleanor was all, I CAN DO IT I WILL DO IT MYYYYY TURN TO DO IT. I will do it ten times.

And it was hard work for me. I was on edge for the entirety of the first few lessons because look how deep that water is.

And look how little my little one amidst all those bigs.

The class ran from 2- to 5-year-olds and six children of that size is too many for one teacher, who seemed exhausted (end of the summer, and all) and who spent most of her time trying to corral children, and make sure no one drowned, so she didn't have a lot of energy to devote to actually teaching. Eleanor got a lot of unexpected water up the nose before she figured out how to blow out on the way down.

A few lessons in, she woke up from her nap crying, I can't swim, I can't swim. Oh no, I thought. She hates this. But as soon as we came within sight of the building she cried, I CAN SEE MY SWIMMING LESSONS HOORAY.

And she did so many things. She wore a life jacket, laughing with delight and terror. She floated on a pool noodle. She sang Tiny Tim like a thousand times. She put her whole head underwater.

I mean, usually without the bucket on it. How are you even still alive, Eleanor. After her afternoon lesson on Friday we walked down to the bus for ice cream, because little sea otters deserve it.

If you would like to watch more than three minutes of shoddy footage, I am always willing to oblige.

She's a Plett at least from the lips to the neck

Chins McGee over here. 

Swimming sandals.

I bought Eleanor these sandals and she kept trying to wear them in the house and I was like, No, stop, but she VERY wanted to wear them, so I had to promise she could wear them to her swimming lessons the next day and now, in her mind, they are irrevocably tied to swimming lessons and we cannot go to swimming lessons if we are not wearing them.

THEY HAVE BUCKLES I WILL NEVER MAKE THAT MISTAKE AGAIN. She can have another pair of sandals with buckles when she's nine, and can do her own buckles. (Also, so firmly embedded in her mind was the idea of swimming lessons = sandals that she leaned over to the 9-year-old girl we sat next to before our first lesson and asked, Do you have new sandals?)

Anyway, as promised, Eleanor feeds a baby goat:

and Eleanor feeds a baby baby.

Both are Very Serious Tasks to be taken upon with Seriousness.

Three months just whizzing by.

The Genny Wren is three months old today. 

We are in chaos around here; swimming lessons have sort of consumed our lives. But I made a ginger peach galette. 

Sorry that you were asleep when we ate it and also are a baby, little Wren. 

 

Fine baby you are, though. 

So handsy.

Geneva loves to fall asleep with somebody's hand over her face.

LOVES IT.

You're doing it wrong, mom.

There. Needs more hands, though.

(Phone has survived toilet dunking, may we all rejoice.)

Here are some old pictures I found on my computer, though.

We went to the animal fair. The birds and the beasts were there. Then I dropped my phone in a supermarket toilet and now I can't even show you the picture of Eleanor feeding a bottle of milk to a baby goat, which I was going to post alongside a picture of Eleanor feeding a bottle of milk to Geneva (which activity she took Very Seriously and has not stopped talking about).

Oh well. We'll let the tupperware container full of rice do its work, and see where we are tomorrow.

I signed her up for a week of swimming lessons, kind of at the last minute. I can't do the kind of lessons where you have to go in with them, because I have this whole other child now, and Joel is never going to be reliably home on Tuesdays, or whenever, so I jumped at the condensed week of summer lessons (jumped at after a month of walking by the sign and being like, I should get on that), and they start tomorrow.

I am terrified for her.

I mean, she's going to be fine. It's lessons for little kids, so they'll go slowly, and I'll be right there in the bleachers. It's just, what if she's nervous and I'm not right there? I'm being a total mom about it. She's my firstborn, and it's been just her and me for so long, and now she's going to go off and have an adventure without me. Sort of.

It'll be good for her, both as an independent experience and as an actual lesson in swimming. It'll be good for me, too.

Gerrrrrm everywhere.

We have colds. 

Again. 

We have the most useless immune systems on the market. 

Nobody is sleeping well. 

We have been staying close to home. 

Maybe we venture out for a pastry if Joel is working the evening shift, and we just cannot about supper. 

Joel has taken the girls out for a few hours, and I am just going to lie here. I don't even care if I sleep. I'm just going to lie in my bed, all alone, and no one is going to wake me up because they are hungry or because the thunder is loud. 

I'm so excited. 

We remember.

It is hot as BALLS right now, and I am not complaining at all because I remember how cold it was and will be again. I mean, not even three months ago we were still in winter coats.

Early May:

Earlier today:

Early April:

Early this evening:

And just for funs, roundabouts this time last year:

Roundabouts an hour ago:

Oh, my embiggening girl.

Saskatoon people problems

What do you think.

Should we go to the Fringe Festival today

and Ribfest tomorrow?

Or to Ribfest today

and the Fringe Festival tomorrow?

Or should we go to the Fringe Festival this morning

and Ribfest this afternoon?

And then tomorrow we can reverse the order? 

No, that is ridiculous. 

We cannot handle that much festivalling. 

Let's just go to Ribfest today

and the Fringe Festival tomorrow

and call it good. 

This is just how I read.

Like this.

Like this.

Like this.

Like this.

Like this.

Like this.

Like this.

I am a totally normal reading sort of person.