Shower Power

I am having some trauma these days...fine, a lot of trauma. The fact that my header this month is a photo I took three years ago should tell you that at least one person in our house is having a little trouble with the fact that Morgan is starting kindergarten this fall. So I have decided to spend the summer trying to relive all of Morgan's "firsts" -- because that is totally emotionally healthy.  Okay, fine, not really. But I did pull out her old kiddie pool yesterday and couldn't help but notice some striking similarities among the photos:

 

2010 (first time in a pool):

2013 (one week into actual swimming lessons):

In three years, the only real difference in the pictures of her with her face in the water is that in 2010, she was in the process of falling over face first, while much of yesterday consisted of Morgan violently thrusting her head into three inches of water, making me count while she held her breath, and then forcing me to congratulate her on learning how to "swim" -- baby steps.

This post isn't really about Morgan learning how to swim. It's about how to only marginally supervise your child while cleaning out the garage. Because David's brother is a professional organizer, I decided it was high time we quit bringing shame to the family. My goal was to pull everything out of the garage and decide what would stay and what would go. That alone took us all day. Not surprisingly, Morgan was no help. As soon as I put something of hers in the pile, she immediately began explaining to me how much she loved the item and how she still needed to use it.

Exhibit A: her old camping highchair. She actually asked me if she could eat lunch in it. Instead, I told her to get her swimming suit on and I would get the hose so she could rinse it off before we donated it. Within a matter of minutes, Morgan decided we needed to turn our front yard into an outdoor shower. We're classy. The neighbors love us. 

Lather.

Rinse.

Repeat.

Six hours later, when the novelty finally wore off, Morgan thought she would practice a little water safety. Never mind the fact our yard was a swamp and there wasn't actually any water left in the pool.

As we were putting things away, Morgan generously offered "You know, Mom. I can help you learn how to swim anytime." You bet, kiddo. Right after I let you teach me how to drive.