We 3 hooligans ducked into the MMR pool today.   G was rowdy and raucous and the life of the party, as usual. Alana started slow, but a change in her demeanor was quickly evident. Last time she was afraid to venture 2 steps from the edge of the baby pool.   This time she waltzed across it, up the stairs, and held out her hand for me to help her jump from the side over and over again.

I’ve realized that its not just the depth, but the scope and the surroundings that make my kids afraid of the water.   G being so much easier to translate and communicate sometimes makes Alana’s progressions fade into the background. Today I told G to go to the big pool herowndamnself and leave me and her little sister alone.   3 minutes later, Alana too was bored of the baby pool.

In the past when I’ve towed her, she’s arched her body into a parachutist’s pose, trying to get every ounce out of the water. Today she relaxed her legs and enjoyed the pull.   In the past when I’ve picked her up she’s clung to me for dear life; today she realized we were taking turns tossing into the air and could not wait for G’s turn to finish.   She stood on the steps with her arms outstretched, clearly verklempt having to wait so long. I threw her far above my head, each beat of the countdown her smile got bigger in that goofy quiet way she has of co-existing in the shadow of her big sister.   Even when I missed her on the catch and she dropped to the bottom, she coughed and smiled and held out her arms to be thrown again.

G crapped out before Alana did.   Alana wanted to play more Toss the Baby.