On Pools and Pottys and Expectations

Or, on being Shirley "I've got my happy face on today!" Hastings.

Remember waaaay back last summer when I was all, "Olivia can swim!" Well, I do, but apparently Olivia doesn't. Yesterday I held a little swim clinic in our bathtub where we could practice some important swimming techniques like, oh, putting your whole face in the water. Other clinics have included laying face down on an ironing board in order to practice using "big arms." Although the most progress that we made with that one was to get her arms to stroke forward rather than backward. Yes, it looks as uncomfortable as it sounds. And now we've spent every weekday evening of the last two weeks at the neighborhood swim team practice where I watch her smile and smile and have the greatest time ever, except that the whole time she's clinging to either the coach's neck or the kick board. And, strangely enough, she totally thinks she's a swimmer!

I'll let her think it until tomorrow when they have the Time Trials and then they kick her off the team because she can't swim the full length of the pool on her own. Never mind that it's really me--the one pacing at the side of the pool during practice giving out additional instructions and acting like an over-zealous stage mom--who will have to be let down easy when it comes to this finality that swim team is not in her schedule for this summer. Ok, ok...I know it doesn't matter, that there's always next year, that at least she's happy....but I had such high hopes! Oh, Shirley, I get it.

And then remember when I was all, "Isabel will totally be potty trained before the baby is born!" Well--surprise, surprise--she's totally not. I might as well have announced that I was giving my cat cooking lessons and putting him in charge of this year's Thanksgiving dinner. We've run the gauntlet of success and failure over the past few months with a particularly low moment on one day where by the end of it she had pooped in her pants five times (who poops five times a day!) and I couldn't help but take it personally. Please, please, please tell me you've been there too. There I was, kneeling in front of her next to the toilet, my hands gripping her shoulders, and my face in hers, and all the frustration comes boiling out as I basically lose it telling her, "YUCKY! YUCKY! YUCKY!" And, her little lip starts quivering, and in my mind all I can think is, "That's right, you just go ahead and cry!"

Let's just say, using shame as a method of potty training is equally unsuccessful.

And here I didn't think that these expectations were all that outrageous?! But until they're ready, I'm going to do the best I can to just wear my happy face.

p.s. Olivia is now asking me if she can go swim in the bathtub again. So can we count that as progress?

Adam just finished reading The Hobbit to our kids. So, I had to smile when yesterday in church and one of the speakers used the word, habit, that Olivia perked up and asked,

"Why is he talking about Hobbits?"

MISSING

So, either a robber broke into my house (which wouldn't be very hard considering my suburban security techniques) and stole my bulk-sized box of Oreos.....or I'm totally losing my mind...

But I've TOTALLY, ACTUALLY, literally, LOST MY COOKIES! And I've been looking all week to find them.

I guess this is what Alannis Morrisette would call ironic. See, I grew up on the off-brand Oreos--the ones that Adam's family called "50 cent" cookies, but my family called them (more accurately), "Yuck-o" cookies. And those were pretty much the only kind of store bought treats that we ever had. Even though I can't stomach even one of those cheap alternative brand cookies anymore, it still feels like a total splurge to buy the actual, original Oreos.

So, on one of the few times that I get a big box, apparently I've put it somewhere in the house that was such a good hiding place that I've totally hidden it from myself

....and believe me, I've been looking
....especially when it gets to be like 3:30 in the afternoon
....or 10:30 at night.

Or else, one of my kids has already beat me to finding the box.

3rd Annual

Once again, I have to eat my words. We spent last weekend at our 3rd annual Memorial Day Weekend Boomba Group Campout. I was really, really not looking forward to it (as everything seems like an enormous hassle lately), but I stand corrected. The area and the company were both spectacular. In fact, it was so great that I haven't even minded the post-camping cleaning-up.
This year we went to Bushkill falls, an area in the Delaware Water Gap, which is in Eastern Pennsylvania as it borders New Jersey by the Delaware River.

Since our campsite was on the shore of the Delaware river there was plenty of water (and mud) play.
We had an afternoon of hiking through an area of waterfalls.

As always, there was good campfire time...and s'mores.

Adam and Alex took the boys on a little mountain bike ride. Jon took the (very excited) kids out fishing--and Ilse was successful. Jon later cleaned and cooked the fish (with far fewer of the kids participating).

We missed Amy who had to stay home for work.

And my littlest boy here actually slept through both nights. Wahoo. He must want to go out camping again.

I could possibly be talked into that--he earned it.

List

My to-do list for this week must be about 150 items long.

We're leaving for a weekend camping trip on Saturday, so there's food and gear to pack, seedlings for the garden that are still in their containers waiting to be transplanted, laundry that is unfolded, pants for Adam that need to be hemmed, about 7 thank-you cards I haven't yet written, teacher gifts to wrap, paint on the windows I need to scrape off, weeds that are out in force, blog posts that I keep wanting to catch up on, etc., etc., etc...

When I got home from dropping off Olivia at her preschool class I had every intention of tackling the ever-growing list. Before I went inside, Isabel walked with me down to the mailbox and then said, in her sweet, little, chirpy, cartoon-y, downright adorable 2yr old voice,

"You go on walk with me, Mama?"

Yes.

Actually, I think that it's a much better use of my time.

It looks like Costco must have a house brand for everything ......

because in Gospel Doctrine class today, the subject listed for discussion was

the Kirkland Temple.

Mother's Day

The day started with breakfast in bed

and is ending with a piece of pound cake drizzled with ganache.

(And there was even a nap in between.)

It was a pretty sweet day.

Thanks.