Bathing Beauty

This Saturday Virginia took her first swim lesson. We signed her up for casual drop-in "Tadpole" lessons offered at the indoor pool at Mariner Square Athletic Club. After her morning nap, we hustled her over there and fitted her out in a wetsuit and baby bathing cap. She looked like a bathing beauty from the 1920s.

With little fanfare she was lowered into my arms in the pool. Virginia's immediate reaction? Not amused. The pool room was loud and echoey, the water was deep, and there were a lot of strange faces around. For a moment Virginia put on a brave face, but suddenly her little lower lip stuck out and the tears began flowing.

After a while in the water, though, Virginia got her bearings. We swam over to the rail and picked up a few water toys, which Virginia seized on as though they were pieces of driftwood from a sinking ship. We swam a few laps together by ourselves. After a time, she eventually saw that this was really not all that different from bath time after all, and she began kicking along and blowing raspberries.

Looking forward to next week!

Ain't No Mountain High Enough

This weekend, Thomas left me home alone with the Worm and went mountain climbing with a work buddy, Nathan and another friend, Mark.  They went up to Mount Shasta in Northern California, camping out in a snowstorm, but finally ascending to the top!  Thomas was recovering from a sprained ankle, so I was very impressed that he made it.

I survived my first two nights home alone with Virginia while he was gone.  I had lots of help from Thomas's parents, who had me over for dinner on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday.  The only event of any note was that Virginia had her first bout of inconsolable crying on Saturday night while we were with the Harveys.  She's generally a very happy baby and only cries when she's hungry - a problem that can be easily remedied.  She's never had any tummy troubles that have caused her pain, but she had a very painful bout of gas that night.  We were beside ourselves trying to comfort her.  The only person in the house who was unfazed was Uncle Steven - apparently his son, Beau, cried like this all the time.  I'm so relieved I don't have a colicky baby.  One night like this was enough!