Splashville

Last night Paige, Beth and I brought the girls downtown to check out Asheville’s newest attraction: Splashville. For the past few years the city has been renovating the area between Pack Square and the courthouse, installing a fountain area where people can run through and get soaked by the random streams of water shooting out from the ground. I had been hearing a lot of great things about it from friends, and was eager for Taylor, Elliot and Rayn have some splashing good fun in it. And they most definitely did.

Taylor, tempting the fountain:

Each of the girls got at least one good splash of water to the face:

And, y’all, if you could have only heard the girls shrieking and squealing as they ran around the fountain trying to catch the water, you would have understood the amount of fun we had. But I think this picture of my little peanut sums it up perfectly:

Pure happiness. Thank you, Asheville.

In which the apple didn't fall far from the tree

And about five minutes after recording this, yours truly put down her camera, hopped on top of the raft and attempted to show her daughter how easy it was to jump off. Which resulted in everyone getting an entertaining show of my amazon-length arms and legs flailing around the raft until I belly flopped into the water. Ouch!

27 months old

This past weekend, somewhere between our lake adventure and daily pool-time, Taylor turned 27 months old. And taking a moment to reflect on this past month, the mental images of the past weeks are mostly of my daughter in a swimsuit and water-wings. The beach, the lake, the pool... We’ve logged more hours in the water than on dry land recently. Meaning our naps have gotten longer and our baths have become less frequent. Yep, we’ve got one worn-out, chlorine-smelling toddler on our hands. But at least she’s a cute little stinker.

She is getting so much more comfortable in the water. A month ago, she had a death-grip on me as we walked through the pool, and now she’ll just jump in by herself and tread water for hours. She doesn’t have any swimming-skills per say, but she can kick her legs and move herself around in all directions. She even likes to put her head all the way under now, which results in that adorable, dunked-under-water face, so when she comes up she has her mouth wide open and her eyes blinking at turbo-speed. And then she wipes the water off her face and immediately says, AGAIN! AGAIN!

And as fast as she’s adapting to the water, the more she regressing on the potty. For some reason we’re in a rut when it comes to potty training this past month. I keep repeatedly asking her all day, Taylor, Do you need to go potty? And she’ll look at me and say, No. I go potty tomorrow. And I’ll whine, Well, how about now? Let’s go NOW. And she’ll deadpan back, No. Tomorrow. And because I don’t really feel like wrestling her out of her clothes and physically forcing her on the froggy potty, I just sigh and shrug my shoulders. And also continue to spend the majority of Chris’s paycheck on pull-ups and swim diapers.

She continues to amaze me on a daily basis with the things that come out of her mouth. She is speaking so well, and recognizing and repeating words in the correct, read ADORABLE, context. The other night while we were brushing her teeth, she grabbed her mouth and said, My teeth hurt! Which makes sense because her two-year molars are taking forever to pop all the way through. And after working through the pain, we finished up brushing her teeth and she reached her fingers inside my mouth and asked, Momma’s teeth hurt? And I said, Nope. And she got a big smile on her face and said, Momma’s teeth HAPPY? And I nodded and replied, Yes, Momma’s teeth are very happy. And then I immediately dove in and kissed her cheeks for the millionth time that day while she squealed with delight.

And those precious moments and stolen smooches are what I keep reminding myself about when she does have a Terrible Two episode. She has been testing her limits on so much, and the Time Outs and threats of Time Outs have become more and more frequent. And as easy as it would be to forgo the melt-downs and eventual punishment, and just give her what she wants, let her do whatever and tell her what she wants to hear, I know that it would only be a short-term fix to the problem. And I don’t want a spoiled brat for a child. And then I remember two years ago, when my only job as a mother was to clean, feed and keep this little baby alive. And I thought THAT was hard. And now I need to do all of that stuff AND make sure she grows up to be a balanced, respectful, loving human being? Yep, this job is tough. But it’s the best job in the world. And my daughter makes it the greatest, most rewarding job ever.

A day at the lake

Chris and I both grew up spending our summer days on lakes. His childhood spent swimming and skiing in the many gorgeous lakes spread across the Northern Wisconsin landscape, and mine with my family and family friends in Storm Lake. Looking back, I feel like every weekend started with my Mom packing lunches and beach towels, gathering sand toys and floats, driving to the lake and then meeting up with our second family, the Doxtads, and beaching and boating for hours and hours of fun in the sun.

Those days hold some of my greatest memories growing up. Getting slathered up in sunscreen, rafting in the water, looking for hidden treasures in the sand and discovering the mystery of the Secret Water. Learning to tube behind the boat, trying to ski, bobbing up and down in our lifejackets in the middle of the lake, dunking and splashing each other, fighting over floats and me releasing James Doxtad’s brand new super-duper tube into a boat current and watching it be lost forever. Yep, lots of wonderful memories. Well, for everyone but James... He’s still pretty bitter about me losing that tube.

So when our good friends, the Bounds, mentioned to us that they had found the perfect little beach on Lake James that they like to take the kids to, Chris and I, and the Scullys, jumped at the chance to get out on the lake. And because LeAnn and Jamie already have a boat, we went in with the Scullys and Paige’s sister-in-law, Beth, and rented a pontoon for the day.

And I’m not even kidding you, we were about five seconds out of the marina before Chris looked at me and said, Um. I think we need to buy a boat. And I was all, Um, okay. But can I get a new fridge first?

Captain Chris and his first mate:

The little cove that the Bounds had staked out was just perfect. It had a nice, sandy beach area, and plenty of room for the kids to swim. The water was so clear I could see my feet at all times, and the scenery was meant to be on a postcard.

And let me just tell you how awesome my little peanut was in the water. After the whole scared-to-death-of-the-ocean thing we went through at the beach, I was a bit skeptical as to how she would handle the lake. But all fears were tossed aside after her initial plunge into the water, and for the next five – read, FIVE! – hours, we literally had to pull her out to get into the boat to leave. She swam her heart out in that cove, and we were so proud of her.

And as if swimming and jumping off rafts weren’t enough, she and Chris even went on a short ride in the tube behind the boat. And she totally rocked it... Chris said that she kept yelling, Faster, Daddy! Faster! Which is ironic, because when the two of us are driving around town she always hollers, Slow down, Mommy!

All of the kids did awesome in the water, which made everyone’s day that much better. And it also allowed time for us parents to relax and enjoy the day as well. Meaning we were able to float in rafts and enjoy some ice cold beers throughout the afternoon. I mean, nothing’s better than a cold brew in the sun while sitting on a boat or on a beach, am I right?

And after getting everything back on the boat and headed back to the marina, the three girls, Taylor, Elliot and Rayn, Elliot’s cousin, just sat up front and watched as the boat moved through the water, giggling and dancing. It was the perfect way to end such a wonderful day.

And it was such an amazing day. And it’s not that I wasn’t expecting it to be fun as we were heading into it, but I just didn’t know it could be THAT fun. Part of me didn’t even know THAT kind of fun even existed. It was just an absolutely perfect day. One that made me super nostalgic for all of those days we spent as kids with the Doxtads on the lake at home, and also super happy that Taylor will be able to have those kind of memories with her friends growing up. Which means that I might have to put my new refrigerator-dreams on hold for a bit. But that’s fine. Because I couldn’t imagine how a new fancy ice dispenser could make me any happier than I was yesterday on the boat with my husband, my daughter and all of my friends.

Starting to wish he had grown up with a sister in the house

I think I mentioned a few weeks back that Taylor has recently become OBSESSED with Disney Princesses, and that all of her Dora the Explorer gear is slowly being replaced with books, stickers and pajamas with the faces of Snow White, Cinderella, Ariel and the gang. Adios, Dora. I can’t say it’s a sad goodbye.

And right as we were welcoming the new theme to our house, Chris’s mom was here and really wanted to buy her one-and-only grandchild a few Princess movies for her to obsess over. And for some reason, we couldn’t find a single Princess classic at any of the stores around us. None. Apparently those Nazis over at Disney like to release certain movies at certain times and keep the rest in a vault. Seriously?

And because we don’t practice something called PATIENCE in our house, instead of combing the internet or driving a million miles to a Disney store, we just settled and got Taylor a Disney Princess Collection DVD at Target, which showcased little snippets of stories from each Ariel, Belle, Cinderella and Princess Jasmine. And because she had never seen the real full-length movies containing any of those Princesses, she was in love. It is the most amazing thing she had ever seen. Her eyes light up just thinking about watching it. It is so wonderful that the minute she wakes up in the morning, she chirps, Pwin-cess, Mom? Pwin-cess? Air-ee-al-Belle-Cinderella-Jammin, Mom? Pwin-cess, Mom?

So for the past weeks, Taylor has been watching her Princess DVD while chowing down on her Cheerios, which allows me the free time to drink my gallon of coffee, play my Words with Friends and read the paper. And because I know who each of the Princesses are, and also because I understand and speak fluent-Taylor, I’ll ask her which story she wants to watch and she’ll tell me. A pretty easy routine that has resulted in everyone having a wonderfully relaxing and entertaining morning schedule.

Until a few weeks ago when I had an early morning dentist appointment and Chris was in charge of the breakfast routine. When I left, everyone was happy. When I came back, my daughter was pouting on the couch and my husband was pacing in the kitchen with crazy hair. And to hear Chris explain what went down just made me laugh out loud, She just kept yelling, Jammin, Daddy! Jammin. Pwin-cess JAMMIN! And how am I supposed to know who Jammin is? Which one’s Jammin? What kind of Princess is named Jammin? I’ve heard of Cinderella, but JAMMIN? Come on!

And it was at that moment that I was once again reminded of how out of his league my sweet husband is when it comes to Princesses and other girl-stuff. When he grew up, it was just him and his brother wrestling, throwing the football back and forth and watching Rambo and Karate Kid. I don’t even think he’s seen Sound of Music in its entirety. He has absolutely no idea what he’s gotten himself into. I’m afraid the minute the emotional-rollercoaster called Puberty hits our house, we’re gonna have to bolt the door and gate the windows to keep him from running for the hills. But until then, Taylor and I are gonna work harder at easing him into Girl-ville, one Disney Princess at a time.

Happy birthday America

We had a fabulous time celebrating Independence Day yesterday, surrounding ourselves with our friends, food, fireworks and lots and lots of sunshine.

Taylor set a new record at the pool in the morning, swimming for THREE straight hours before we plucked her tan, tired body out and forced her to take a nap.

After recharging, we spent the rest of the afternoon and evening at the Bound’s house with our good friends, where we watched our kiddos run around and savored the smells of hotdogs on the grill and the burning fuses of fireworks.

Of course we had to have bomb-pops.

And sparklers.

And then the guys performed their own Fourth of July spectacular in the cul de sac.

A wonderful day all around, made even better by a totally exhausted child that slept until 8.30 this morning. Thank you, America!

Yet another moment where I’ve been extremely proud of my daughter

Taylor and I were fortunate enough to be able to join my friend, Kelley, and her two boys for a few days at the beach this week. Never one to pass up an opportunity for sun, sand and beers with limes in them, we packed up ourselves, three kids and an ungodly amount of stuff into her minivan and headed to the coast.

And after surviving the six hour drive to Wrightsville Beach, we unloaded, unpacked and planned our itinerary for the following days. You see, Kelley and I share the mentality that everything must be kept on a schedule, mostly revolving around wearing our kids out with one activity in the morning, letting them nap and then repeating them exhausting themselves in the afternoon. Which not only results in some well-sleeping kids, but plenty of time for their mothers to enjoy their nightly cocktails and awful reality shows without interruption.

So the first full day we were there, we obviously had to hit up the beach in the morning. And after slathering on the sunscreen and shoving all our gear in our beach bags, we pumped up our kiddos with stories of sand castles and seashells. And unfortunately, because I don’t trust myself with my camera around an ocean and billions of grains of sand, this is the best picture I snapped of my little beach bum before our adventure.

And while our morning on the shore of the Atlantic was indeed an adventure for me, it was more of a nightmare for Taylor. You see, after dumping all our stuff on the beach and making our initial run down to the waves, Miss T lost her footing and nose-dived into the surf just as a wave was coming up, resulting in her getting a face full of salt water and a swimsuit full of sand. She was pretty much scared to death, and the rest of the morning was spent with her slimy little body clutched to my chest while she kept repeating, All done, Mommy! All done, Mommy!

So after building a few sand castles at an appropriate distance from the water, all while watching little daredevil Josiah diving into the waves, we headed back to the house for lunch and naps. And because it was about a million degrees outside, Kelley and I decided to take the kids to an air conditioned activity in the afternoon. And that activity was Monkey Joes, a giant warehouse full of bouncy houses. Pretty much every kid's dream.

Well, every kid but mine. And even though they had a giant Disney Princess Castle, Taylor still refused, REFUSED, to partake in any of the bouncing. So we spent the whole time looking at the castle and riding a stationary, non-bouncy firetruck.

And I’m not saying that Taylor wasn’t having a good time on the trip. In fact, the following morning, when I pulled her warm snuggly body into bed with me and asked her what she wanted to do that day, she chirped back, See princess castle, Mom! But this time, instead of paying five-bucks, I just showed her the picture on my camera.

And that morning we did a familiar activity and took the kids to the park before the sun made the slides blistering hot, and Taylor rocked the jungle gym, going up and down the equipment with an enthusiasm normally accompanied by ice cream. And then we decided to keep the fun-meter rolling and took the kids back to the house and packed up to go to the beach again. But not the big beach, as our house was located right between the Atlantic and the Banks Channel. So we joined together with Kelley’s sister and kids and headed away from the ocean and set up camp on the waterway beach, which was basically like a sandy swimming pool with a long dock.

Of course I tried to drag my daughter into the calm water right away, and of course she squealed and wriggled away from it. So I put on her swimmies just in case she changed her mind, set her up on the beach with a bunch of sand toys, soaked my feet in the water and watched Kelley perform a multitude of dives and flips off the end of the dock.

And then, out of nowhere, Taylor stands up and announces, I jump to Kelley. And I stood up too and said, Huh? And she shoots back, I JUMP TO KELLEY! And starts marching down to the end of the dock on a mission, all while I trail after her going, Are you sure? Do you wanna jump to Momma? To which she says, NO! KELLEY!

And while I was following her to the landing, I was still in a bit of shock and totally expecting her to chicken-out at the last minute. Because even Josiah wouldn’t jump off the dock. And early that week I saw Josiah wrestle a sea gull on the beach and jump over waves in the ocean like David Hasselhoff. And if he was too scared to jump off the dock, no way would my timid, non-bouncy, surf-scared daughter want to take the plunge.

But she stomped up to the edge of the dock, peered over at Kelley treading water beneath her and JUMPED IN, completely submerging herself in the water and bobbing back to the surface with a giant smile on her face. Paddling her arms and legs while everyone else screamed, cheered and danced in her honor. And then I jumped in next to them and swam my little daredevil back to the shore, all while she squealed, I JUMP! I JUMP! I JUMP AGAIN!

And that moment, while pushing her back to land, I’m pretty sure was one of the proudest moments of my life. My little peanut! She never ceases to amaze me... And I am so honored to be her mother. Good job, sweetheart!