So Long, Library!

Of course there are libraries where we live now, but I wanted to pay special tribute to our library in Las Vegas. We’ve spent a good amount of time at the Windmill Library since it opened just miles from our house shortly after we moved into our house. We got to know some of the librarians there and attended quite a few storytimes. Teagan really enjoyed storytime, singing the songs and reciting the poems, making the mad faces when they asked her to make mad faces and doing every action they suggested (I took her mostly because I enjoyed watching her listen to and follow instructions.) She looked forward most to the stamp the librarian gave you at the end. She would curl up in a ball at the end with her hands on her head and wait for several minutes for them to get to her. An outsider might have thought she was braced for a bomb or an earthquake, but it was just a stamp.

We also participated in numerous reading programs. One of those programs was the “1000 Books Before Kindergarten” program Teagan started when she was about 2 and a half. Since then, we’ve been filling out reading sheets, 100 books at a time and taking them in to the library for a stamp, a prize and the next sheet. Resolved to finish what we started before we moved, a few hours before we loaded the truck we headed to the library, laden with nearly 50 books and a dozen movies to return and a list of books 901-1000 – heavily featuring titles like “Everyone Poops” and anything that began with “The Berenstain Bears and”. I wanted to make it a family affair, a sweet little moment together, as I felt we needed to celebrate something so exciting. Well, that exciting thing took a more exciting turn when we unloaded. I strapped on the diaper bag and grabbed the gigantic bag of books and movies (we’d been relying on the ones we’d borrowed since we packed ours) from the boot while Buddy got the kids out of the car. I started to straighten up and heard a yelp and whipped around to see what was wrong. A scream this time. “Hold still!” Buddy yelled at me and continued to tell me that Teagan was attached by the hair to the incredibly strong Velcro on my diaper bag. So, while I stood still, hunched over at the back of the van, Buddy held Mason with one arm and tried to free Teagan with the other. I do not exaggerate when I tell you it took several minutes and as my legs began to burn I asked what was taking so long. He finished then and I turned around to see my sweet girl. The top of her French braid had been snared and it took a whole lot of effort and a whole lot of crying to free the poor little thing. So, with a tear streaked face and tangled, fuzzy hair, still whimpering we embarked on a sweet little moment together. She greeted her friends (the cutouts from Monsters University and Frozen) returned a record number of items and claimed her prize – a book. It was pretty perfect that Miss Joanna was the librarian working the children’s desk – she always greets Teagan by name and always found something nice to say about the way I looked when I was pregnant with Mason, even if it was a lie…which it had to be. Glad we got to say goodbye to her. Everything else went off without a hitch, except that we’d forgotten a few items at home and had to make plans to come back anyway. Which made the fact that she couldn’t bear to part with the beloved Alvin and the Chipmunks CD we’d renewed countless times. I made plans to return it on the sly with the other few items the next time we visited the library. The real last time. So long, library!

Hide and Seek - Tips from Teagan

Yesterday, I had the privilege of participating in a game of Hide and Seek with Teagan, my three year old. I had a lot I wanted and needed to do, but decided to take the time to play with her, which hasn't happened much in the last two months for some strange, cute little reason.

I am so glad I did. It's the first time we've played that she's really gotten the concept. Usually she suggests Hide and Seek and insists I hide with her, leaving no one in the role of seeker. I don't have to tell you it's rather a boring game to play that way. Just spending those 15 minutes taking turns hiding and seeking while the baby slept peacefully in his swing made up for the other 8 hours of the day that were frustrating and difficult. I need to remind myself to play more often. Besides a little recharge to the ol' Mom Battery, I also picked up a few helpful hints when it comes to playing Hide and Seek with Teagan.

1. Be sure to giggle as conspicuously as possible. Especially if you're in a room that echoes.

2. When you plan to hide in a different room, be sure to slam the door as hard as is humanly possible.

3. Mutter "Ow!" and "That hurt me!" as loudly as possible when you're wriggling under a table a few feet away from the person who is counting.

4. When your opponent is having a hard time maintaining their composure while counting in the face of #3, ask astute questions like, "Why you laughing, Mom?" and carry on conversation while you make your way to your "secret" destination.

4. Hide in plain sight every so often to throw your opponent off.

5. By all means, if you find a good hiding place, reuse it multiple times. Waste not, want not.

6. Sound hide-and-seek strategy suggests you hide in the exact same place as your opponent did on your next turn. They won't see it coming.

7. To speed things along and thwart your opponent's (read: mother's) plans to squeeze under a desk, simply skip the numbers 4 through 9 when counting aloud.

And there you have it. A hilarious take on what used to be a fairly boring game. She is at such a fun age, where she's able (but sometimes refuses) to communicate what she wants and we're able to reason with her...unless she's tired, hungry or otherwise cranky. Of course, said communication isn't always 100% effective. It feels more like a game of Mad Gab then anything else at times. Especially when it comes to playing together and her trying to tell us exactly how she'd like the puppet show or the role play to go. I always do it wrong, making it frustrating for both of us. Take today's direction, for example.

Teagan: "You be chicken liver pirate witch."

Me: "Um, what?"

Teagan: "Chicken liver pirate witch."

I mulled it over several times, changing consonants and altering emphases.

Me: "OH! Jake and the Neverland Pirates witch?"

Teagan: "Yeah." I believe this was made more confusing by the fact that she doesn't watch the show, nor do I believe there is a witch involved. She then went on to hand me a "magic wand" and tried to tell me precisely what to do with it - at whom it should be pointed and what they would turn into.

The other day she wanted to pretend it was cold inside our house and brought me a hat, scarf and mittens to wear and wanted me to shiver. Then she caught snowflakes on her tongue. The more I pay attention and play with her, the more I'm in awe of her creativity and imagination and am able to let myself be silly...when no one else is around.

She has very specific ideas for how she wants things to play out when it comes to role playing, so yesterday's impromptu, unscripted game of Hide and Seek was a breath of fresh, understandable air. Love my little lady.

Free "Zoo"

Shh - don't anyone tell my daughter that you can actually buy animals at the pet store. For right now, it's a free zoo with visit a lot and we're all happy that way. Since our newlywed days, we've been practicing saying "No" to pets. He'd bat his eyelashes at me and pretend he was one of our (yet unborn) children begging for a puppy, to which I had to respond "No" and he'd get more and more dramatic until I caved and he told me I didn't stand a chance. His siblings (I won't name names here) are famous for bringing home random animals and suckering their parents into keeping them and they, of course, lived for decades. So I've been cultivating my argument for years now. But the day she figures out that pets are an option is the day I prove my coldheartedness.

The Doctor is in. See her at your own risk.

Should Teagan enter the "family" business and decide to become a nurse (Mum & Kristina) or a doctor (Grandpa and Brandon, although he'll never refer to himself as "doctor") I may have made the world's wisest investment by purchasing a medical play kit from a friend. For $3. That three smackers may take care of me in my old age. 

Since Amy dropped it off on yesterday morning, I have received no less than 20 check-ups and Teagan's dolls have all been given a clean bill of health. She has been so into role playing lately that I couldn't help myself and jumped at the chance to add to her dress-up clothes. She surprised me and knew what to do with most of the instruments and picked up the rest after being shown once.

She started out with dolls and Hungry Hungry Hippos, until she was comfortable with how to use everything and now everyone she meets is in need of a check-up. Here's what you can expect with Dr. Teagan Richards...

She listens to your heart (mostly just makes sure you have one) and adds her own "buh-boom, buh-boom" sound effects. 

She checks your eyes - I can't say vision here, because the evaluation goes something like this: "One eye, another eye. Two eyes - looks good." Not incredibly thorough, but you can't argue her logic. 

She'll take your temperature and tell you if you're hot or cold - I was about to strangle her father when he told her you can take a temperature somewhere else besides your mouth. He meant your armpit, but you can imagine the conclusion to which I had jumped. Phew, dodged a bullet there. She's branching out and trying it in her dolls' necks, when she can't quite get it under the tongue.

You'll need a shot every time, but don't worry - hers don't hurt. I'm trying to give her a healthy does of reality with my shots and prepare her for them hurting. So she'll cry, or have her dolls cry for a few seconds but then a hug makeseverything better. Poor thing won't know what hit her when I take her in for a check-up in a few weeks.

Overall she does a fantastic job (and her co-pay can't be beat) but we do need to work on her bedside manner a bit. You'd think you were about to die, given the look on her face when she listens to your heart.

She graduated to human patients after a while and we were lucky enough to be first in line. She checked baby brother and he "looks good". And Daddy had a heartbeat, so he was given a clean bill of health. We're very thorough.

Shocker - her schedule isn't full so she is accepting new patients. Step right up...but have a second opinion on speed dial.

Hey good lookin'. What in the heck do you got cookin'?

For better or worse (generally worse) Teagan loves to "help" me in the kitchen. I can't open a drawer without her running over to scrape a kitchen chair over to the counter and give me assistance. Sweet? Yes. Maddening? Also yes. As I was typing this post, she saw the photos of us in the kitchen and has been hanging on my arm for the last few minutes asking to help me cook. <sigh> When I told her I wasn't cooking anything, she asked to cook with Daddy (who is infinitely more patient) but alas, it's Fast Sunday, and I don't know that he'd be in the mood for making food he can't eat. So, she has contented herself with peeling all of the Halloween window decals we put up yesterday and either transferring them to another window or her belly. Naturally.

It started with smoothies, and that I could handle - minimal mess. Then she wanted to help with pouring and mixing and grating - oh my! 

 

I'm trying to stress out a little less about mess, but I'm such a novice chef that I worry she'll spill too many of the ingredients and whatever we're baking won't turn out. I'm slowing getting more patient with her, and there are times when it's been a fun bonding experience, but I still cringe at the sound of the kitchen chair scraping across the kitchen floor.

We got our hands on a cute little kitchen, because I thought it was something that every little girl should have access to, and she didn't show much interest in it at first. But now, she's really cookin'. She makes the world's scariest birthday cakes - unless you like the combination of raw egg, tuna, grapes, onion and orange. The presentation may be lacking, but the inevitable munchkin rendition of "Hatty Birday" more than makes up for it. She loves frying away (yep, she's British and American) and has attempted such delicacies as buttered binkie and sauteed cell phone. Delish. I think Minnie's motorcyle boots ended up in the pan one day as a garnish. Poor thing cooks like her Mummy. There's no hope.

Although between frying everything in sight, being willing to eat random things on toast and using both a knife and fork when she eats, I've been able to confirm that she's indeed half British.

The Pwincess Phase

It's upon us. The Princess Phase. It was all very cute and innocent when she started taking an interest in the Disney Princesses, and of course, we indulged her - we love Disney! But I always told myself we wouldn't call her "princess" or make her believe that the world would treat her like one. We're still 1 for 2.

This girl takes role playing VERY seriously. I have to pay close attention to the way she introduces herself in the morning, because heaven forbid I call her "Minnie Mouse" when she's a "pwincess" that day. She could be a pwincess, she could be Minnie or she could be Millie from Team Umizoomi. And that makes me, by association, pwince (unless Daddy's around), Mickey or Geo. She came in the other morning and told me, "Teagan's a pwincess, Daddy's a pwince." Feeling left out, I asked her what I was. Without skipping a beat, she responded "A dwagon." Ouch. We've had the same conversation several times since and each time she tells me I'm a dwagon. Guess it wasn't a one time thing. But she did clarify the most recent time that I'm a pretty dwagon. A purple one. So there's that.

If her father is around, he plays the prince - which makes sense. But when he's at work, I have to fill the role. But when we try to dance, I'm told that the prince's belly is too big and she decides to wait for her Dad (although she seems to think that he has a baby in his tummy too.) 

She often comes over and bats her eyelashes, clasps her hands together and asks, "Please dance wiv me, Pwince?" I just can't say no.

She favours her pink Cinderella princess dress, but her costumes certainly aren't limited to that. She wears a dress every day lately, regardless of our activities. Sometimes her Minnie Mouse ears double as a crown and sometimes she gets even more creative.

I left Teagan and Daddy alone for 5 minutes and found them both with pairs of Teagan's big girl underwear on their heads as "cwowns". Initiated by Brandon. He's going to have to be the one to tell her where they actually go, because she won't listen to me when I try to tell her. For the next week, she insisted on wearing one of these crowns all day.

Just so I wasn't a complete fuddy duddy, I acquiesced to her request for me to wear a pair. They ended up looking more like a scrub cap than a princess crown, but I look more like a land monster than a human being, so it's probably fitting.

We've upgraded to bloomers in the last little while, and those seem slightly less offensive. And once in a while, they even match. And make me feel like I'm on the set of Newsies.

As long as we're limiting our princess treatment to dancing with princes and wearing pantie crowns and not making demands and ordering us around like servants, I'll be okay with this little phase. At least I hope that's what it is.

Bubble, Bubble, No Toil or Trouble

A battery-operated bubble blower that allows me to blow bubbles WITHIN bubbles from the comfort of my chair and watch my toddler run herself until she begs for bedtime chasing after them? Best $2.50 Target's ever gotten from me.

Wet 'n' Wild 'n' Walloped.

This summer, the biggest water park in Nevada opened up precisely 4 miles from our house. A dream come true, right? We hemmed and hawed about getting season passes, since I'm large and charge these days and there wasn't much for Teagan to do. But she was free and we figured we'd get a whole lotta use out of the passes. Especially since they were open until 8:00 on weeknights. With Brandon getting home between 5 & 6, we thought we'd head up there a couple of nights a week after he got home and wear Teagan out just before bedtime. And what with me not having a car, I wouldn't be able to go during the day unless a friend invited us, and who's to say that our kids will want to do the same things? A brilliant plan on our part to get plenty of use out of it, we thought. 

We were out of town as the park opened but as soon as we got back, I told Teagan we were going to a water park and although she didn't really know what that meant, she caught the excitement. We were dressed, packed and sunscreened anxiously awaiting Brandon getting home from work, ready to execute our foolproof plan.

 

Except that the powers that be changed the hours of the park without updating their website. So we found ourselves all sunscreened up with nowhere to go at 5:45 PM when they turned us away. I don't know if you've ever promised a 2 year old something, gotten them dressed for said something, made it out of the car all the way to the gates of something and had to turn back. Not an easy task. She handled it much better than I thought she would, but as a mother, I couldn't bear disappointing her so - the girl is a fish and the prospect of swimming is always exciting for her. So I started going through my mental rolodex (also no easy feat these days) of our friends that had access to swimming pools. After a few attempts, we got through to my friend Amy who told us we were more than welcome to swim at her community's pool. Hallelujah! Teagan loves the water and loves pretending. She clung to the pole on the steps claiming that she was "Just like Diego!" I say "You can take the girl out of Vegas..."

 

Love him.

I love watching my little girl "swimming" so confidently. I love even more watching her swim towards her daddy.

 

 Who needs the rides at a water park? Isn't that what dads are for?

We swam all by ourselves for quite some time. What, I ask could be better than having a pool to yourself? Having some of your favourite people arrive unexpectedly to swim as well. Our friends, The Statens and The Wilsons came to swim and Teagan loved playing with their little girls. We swam for a couple of hours and thoroughly enjoyed the after-effects of Teagan sleeping in until the 8 o'clock hour. Granted, she toddled into our room in the middle of the night and never left, but nevertheless, bliss.

We did make it to Wet 'n' Wild enough to get our money's worth, mostly Teagan and I tagging along with friends, but we decided to make a night of it as a family one Friday night. Hearing that it hadn't been crowded on Friday nights, we thought we were in the clear. But it happened to be a Dive In Movie night, so there were more people there than I was comfortable with. But we braved the Wave Pool, which Teagan LOVES. Particularly when her Daddy is there, because he takes her all the way to the deep end. She's so brave. We did a few rounds on the Lazy River, where she insists on swimming by herself, so Brandon and I float in our tubes and do our best to hold onto her lifejacket (which she detests.) Then we thought we'd head to Paradise Cove, the "kiddie area" that is a little too advanced for Teagan. The water is freezing and she'd never shown an interest. Until now. And she'll never show an interest again. She waded into the water and was having a great time and then a crowd started to gather. Brandon and I looked up at the very moment the infamous 300 gallon bucket of water began to lean ominously. We glanced at eachother briefly, apparently not long enough for me to effectively convey my message of "GET HER NOW." There were so many people congregating that Brandon couldn't quite reach her before all 300 gallons pummeled our baby into the ground, completely leveling her. I'm not being dramatic, she was in the worst possible place at the worst possible time and she took the brunt of it. Broke my heart. Brandon scooped her up from her hands and knees and she cuddled with him for the better part of an hour while we sat and peoplewatched until she was cold enough to want to go home. Not exactly the way we envisioned our family night going, but it ended very sweetly with out-of-character snuggles.
Next year we may just stick with community pools. Take that, Wet 'n' Wild!

{Post date: 8.9/2013}

Piggies Pretty in Pink

I've always thought it adorable to see little girls toddling around with brightly painted toenails. Adorable for them. I couldn't picture my little girl sitting still long enough to paint her pinky toe. Instead, I envisioned squirming, smearing, screaming and a whole lot of permanent stains on my carpet. none of which I was prepared to deal with. Then came another Saturday with Brandon at work and I found myself in need of an activity to occupy some of our time and decided to bite the bullet. I need to give her more credit. She loved it! She sat still when I asked her, she counted her toes as I painted them and asked me to "match other toes" when I'd finished the first foot. It was darling. I'm sure we'll do it again. Maybe not with so much fanfare, but a first is a first.

 

Buttah balls.

While I'd say my attempt to have Teagan prove helpful in the kitchen was a failure of epic proportions, I did succeed in proving once again that she's mine. Can't resist a good blob 'o' butter (or margarine, in this case.) I mustered all my creativity to facilitate her "helping" me in the kitchen and had her painting margarine on the bottom of a pan to grease it. It took a wrong turn into her mouth and I shut the operation down shortly after snapping a couple of priceless photos.

 

Fortunately, this was the second of two cakes - the first of which was intended for our Young Men's Camp Fundraiser Dessert Auction at church that evening. The second, I made because, well, how do you make a devil's food cake infused with caramel and sweetened condensed milk, topped with whipped cream, more caramel and toffee bits and not make one for yourself? Particularly when pregnant. I couldn't. And as someone not well known for baking, I was shocked when my cake sold for $25 - the highest big for a homemade item. I'm still in shock. And a diabetic coma.

Punzel's Mummy.

We were playing with Little People princesses and Teagan asked me for "Punzel's mummy." Fairly confident we didn't have a Little People version of Mother Gothel laying around, I told her we didn't have her. "I find her. Teagan's room," was her response and came back with this. Touche, Miss T. Touche.

Real Pretend.

Today we played our first real pretend game. Oxymoron alert? Regardless, it was hilarious...the first 17 times. I busted out the Easter decorations on March 18th, realizing that I didn't have much time before Easter was actually upon us. So out came the eggs and we haven't stopped playing with them since.

She decided she wanted to be Little Red Riding Hood and deliver eggs and cookies to Grandma: Me. (Love hearing her beckon to me as Grandma, by the way. :|) She put all the eggs in a basket and started to skip around the living room, swinging her basket and singing "la, la, la" over and over until she dumped them out and they were strewn across the living room. 

She'd proclaim, "Oh no! My eggs!" or "My cookies!" depending on her mood. She'd look to me and say "Grandma, help me please?" So Grandma would pat her on the back and say, "Don't worry. I'll fix it."

Then roles were reversed and I was required to be Red Riding Hood. There was nothing sweeter than Teagan dropping to her knees beside me, rubbing my back and reassuring me with, "Don't worry. I fix it." So sweet and so exhausting. Neither of us was allowed to break character until Teagan decided we were finished playing, which seemed to take hours. She's nothing if not committed.

The 1%

When she's not drinking them, licking them, spilling them or outright dumping them we have a really good time with bubbles when the weather is as nice as it has been. So, 1% of the time we have a ball.

SO big...cheating aside

Brandon's "day off" last week was anything but. He ended up hanging shelves, pictures and - miracle of miracles - the growth chart I made at 2011's Relief Society Super Saturday. For the last year and a half, it's been propped up against a wall, teetering dangerously. I like it much better where it is now.

Teagan wasn't sure about it at first, but once I showed her what we were doing she was all for it. (Sidenote: If you include my sock bun, I'm nearly average height!) We measured several times (not standing on her tippy toes - totally did that herself, by the way) and confirmed that she is, indeed, growing like a weed. And judging from the look of my backyard, I'm an expert on how fast weeds grow.

Tykes N Tots N Teagan

My dear friend Hillary, who is always driving us around to fun and exciting new places (eg. Sam's Club) took us to Tykes N Tots earlier this month and it turned out to be a huge hit. It's designed for toddlers, so I didn't have to worry about her being able to hold her own with 12 year olds running circles around her. You pay for a day pass and can come and go as you please - for things like naps, meals, etc. They have a trampoline, a ball pit, a mini-roller coaster, a toddler jungle gym and every toy, doll and book you can think of. (A Dora book created quite a stir - read about it HERE.) While you were responsible for looking after your child, the room is wide open so you can keep an eye on them from almost anywhere. In particular the incredibly comfortable leather couches complete with magazines and free wi-fi. If your child is well-behaved and safety conscious, you could enjoy a really relaxing day. Really looking forward to one years from now.

The ball pit was Teagan's favourite activity. Her favourite accessory? An ill-fitting pair of goggles that she insisted on wearing everywhere once she found them. A scientist in the family? Most likely a mad one.

It's always nice to try new things and while the cost of this particular adventure will inhibit us from making it a regular occurrence, it will make for a marvelous incentive when it comes to potty training and rewards for good behaviour. Should either of those days ever come.

Cadadoo!

For a few months now, one of Teagan's favourite activities has been to tell us to sleep and wake us up like a rooster. She can't quite spit out COCKADOODLEDOO, but CADADOO gets the message across. She'll tell Daddy to "sweep" then it's Mummy's turn to "sweep" and usually next comes "Teagan turn."

It's funny when we're at home and it's planned, but Brandon has an uncanny ability to fall asleep anywhere at the drop of a hat. It hasn't happened yet, but I'm waiting to hear CADADOO at church. She's told him to wake up several times, and perhaps she senses that a rooster doesn't belong in church. *knock on wood*

Puddin' Painting. Take II.

Daddy working another Saturday + needing a bath anyway = Puddin' Paintin'. It was a lot more successful (read: messy) than our last attempt  in June of last year:

She started off a little reluctantly, but once she saw me eat some, she dug in. Things got a little boring, so I painted a Three Musketeers mustache and goatee on her to get things going. Then she tried to paint her nose and her nostrils are still blue. So much mess. So much fun. What else are you going to do when poor Daddy (the fun one) has to work?

The Littlest Laundress

Teagan has really gotten into helping me with laundry lately. Considering the fact that our laundry increased exponentially with her birth, I'm happy to accept the help. 

She loves to push the buttons, but before we get there she has to help me load. I pulled the clothes out of the washing machine, made sure we could dry them (with the way we're growing, we can't afford to shrink some things) and handed them to her to transfer to the dryer. She said "thank you" for EVERY SINGLE ARTICLE of clothing I handed her. The British in her, my Mum claims. We're nothing if not polite. 

It was so cute that I could almost forgive her for pulling out a pair of my pants and gasping "So big!" Almost.

What do YOU do in 25 mph wind gusts?

We blow bubbles.

What with it being frigid and all, I insisted she wear a warm jacket. I reached for a sweet little number with a furry hood. It was a little snug, so when I zipped it up, her giant cheeks became a little smushed, impeding her speech.

Teagan: "Rrr."
Me: "Yes, your jacket is warm."
Teagan: "RRR."
Me: "Yep, still warm."
(this went on for a while)
Teagan: "No. Lion. Teagan. ROARRR."

Seeing that I clearly wasn't understanding what she was trying to say, she backed up and spelled it out for me. I keep underestimating her - she's so much smarter than I give her credit for!

So the lion and I stepped outside to blow some bubbles. Correction, we stepped outside to hold our bubble blower aloft (a la He-Man) and let the intense wind gusts do the bubble blowing for us. It was actually really fun. Chilly, but entertaining. And I wasn't out of breath at the end, so that was a plus.

Bathing Beauty

T loves to swim. Always has. I take that back - save her very first swim at 5 months when her Mum neglected to test the temperature of the frigid water, Teagan loves to swim. Anywhere. Like in a tote in our backyard. White trash, I know, but she didn't seem to mind.

We bought her a Puddle Jumper, which has foam water wings attached to a vest. It has been one of the best kid investments (can you call $15 an investment?) so far. It took her a few minutes to figure out how to stay on her front, and from then it's been a cinch. She loves the independence and is confident and happy being on her own in the middle of the pool - don't worry, I'm always watching...WAY too many drownings in Las Vegas for me not to be vigilant. Seeing how comfortable she is, people ask me about the Puddle Jumper all the time.

A neighbourhood nanny/certified lifeguard was offering swim lessons for littles, so we opted to sign her up, since it was only a few houses down and I thought it couldn't hurt. Upon hearing at the first lesson that her goal was to make the kids comfortable in the water, I realized that it might not make a huge difference to Teagan, but we went anyway. She was joined by two little ladies from the ward who are only a few months younger than Teagan, but make her look like a monster. They were so cute in their matching little coverups that we couldn't help but take a photo of the bathing beauties.

Perhaps part of the appeal of swimming is the constant snack breaks and delicious treats that accompany us every time, but she seems to genuinely enjoy the water.

Heaven forbid she see her bathing suit sitting out and we don't have plans to swim. Poor thing has insisted on wearing it anyway and wanders around the house in her swimsuit like a little lost sea turtle. But I know now not to put her swim diaper on until we're seconds from jumping in the pool. Back in May I learned the hard way that swim diapers don't actually absorb pee...but my friend's car seat does. To make matters worse, she was sweet enough to invite AND drive me to her pool party and I returned the favour with a wet, smelly car seat - sorry Britt!

We swam at my piano teacher's pool when we visited my parents and Teagan loved every minute. Without hesitation, she hopped up on the diving board and "jumped" off to her daddy in the deep end. Then she climbed up the water slide, slid down and "swam" over to the stairs to do the whole thing over again. We started out helping her at the top and catching her at the bottom, but before long she was doing it all on her own.

Oh and she loves her some hot tub. Her cheeks impeded the wearing of her life jacket slightly, but it did its job.

We tagged along to her cousins' swim lessons while we were in Moscow and bless my sister-in-law's heart, Tara looked after Teagan AND her son (3 months younger) in the wading pool because I hadn't brought my suit. Famous last words: "She shouldn't be too much work, she's pretty comfortable in the water. Poor Tara didn't have a second's rest between Teagan hanging out in water up to her chin, drinking water out of the pool toys and dumping buckets of water on Sam's head. Believe it or not, he was asking for it towards the end of the "game", not before she attacked Ben and Jessa once they were finished swimming. Who brought the bully? All I can say is thank you Tara for running swimming yourself ragged to keep my daughter from drowning. I'll bring my suit next time.

I'm so proud of my little water baby and hope we don't lose momentum while we can't swim in the winter. Although we did swim outside last week. Have I mentioned we love Las Vegas?