Quiet Week

Let me ask you? Do any of you care that Adam's an ass? I have nothing to blog about this week, and so I asked Adam for a topic. "I have nothing for you," he said. "You're an ass," I responded. "Blog about that!" But really, it's simply not that interesting. So, what do I have for this week? Not really much but here it goes...

I was playing with Pie, general roughhousing, when she suddenly opened wide, leaned down, and chomp! That's an immediate time out, which means sitting on the stairs with the bottom gate closed. She wasn't happy at first, at least not till her brother walked by (and Pie mangles his name in a really cute way that I'll replicate her as Doogles).
Pie: Doogles! Hey Doogles!
Doodles: Pie? What are you doing Pie?
Pie: I'm in time out, Doogles!
Doodles: Why?
Pie (with the utmost glee): I bite!
Doodles: Oh, you bite!
The timer goes off. Pie jumps up and down at the gate, yelling: It's over! It's over!
We may need to find a more effective means of discipline.

Meanwhile, Doodles is signed up for the Pike swim class at the Y. Pie's had to just watch him swim because the toddler swim classes are all in the morning, and I refuse to go twice. Lazy, I know. But this session they lowered the age of the Seahorse class from three to 2 1/2. Because she hadn't taken a swim class in a while, I figured I'd do one session of Seahorse with Parent before segueing into an independent class. After all, Pie is technically still two months away from 2 1/2.

We talked about it daily:
Me: Pie want to go swimming?
Pie: Yes! Swim with Mommy?
Me: Of course! Mommy and Pie will swim together.
Pie: Swim with Mommy! Swim now?

So, of course, the night before our class was to start, I got a call that the class was underenrolled. We were the only ones signed up for it. So I transferred her into the Seahorse class. By her lonesome.

Me: Pie, so how would you like to take a swim class with just a teacher?
Pie: Um...no. Swim with Mommy.
Me: I'm afraid our class is not going to happen. But you can take a swim class with just the teacher! Like Doodles does!
Pie: No. I swim with Mommy.
Me: Well, why don't you just try it?
Pie, scrunching nose: Hmmm. Pie try it. [Thinks a moment] Teacher hold Pie?
Me: Some of the time. Some of the time you'll hold the wall or stand.
Pie, thinks some more: No. Teacher hold Pie.
Me: There are going to be two other kids in the class. The teacher won't be able to hold you the entire time.
Pie cocks her head and thinks for another moment: No, no stand. Teacher hold Pie.
And conversation over, Pie waddles off.

Swim class finally arrives. I'm wishing Doodles's class was first so Pie could at least see him go off on his own. But Pie is first so I change her. I take her out to the pool with Doodles in tow. Pie's always had great relationships with her female teachers, so of course her teacher is a guy.

Me: Okay, sweetie, this is your teacher.
Pie looks him up and down.
Me: Can I have a smooch?
Pie puckers up and I give her a big kiss.
Me: Okay, Pie, it's time for your class.
And you could have knocked me over with a floatie, because the girl took her teacher's hand, said, "Bye Mommy!" and walked right into the pool. I could barely see her from where the seats are, but I could see her doing just fine. She refused to jump in, but was willing to be pulled in by the teacher, had no issues getting her hair wet, and had a big grin on her face the whole time. The two other kids in the class were boys over three, which worked out well as they were more independent in the water. At the end, the teacher said to me, "She needed to be held onto the whole time--she couldn't swim on her own--but she wasn't crying so it was fine with me."

It's refreshing, especially since she's decided the rest of the time that she'd rather be a baby. "Hold me like a baby!" she'll say. "Carry my like a baby!" I've been trying to subtlety inject the "big girl" thing in preparation for potty training. But it's like she's on to me. "Pie! You're doing the jacket flip so well! What a big girl!" "No," she corrects, "I'm a baby." I've got Doodles on the one hand--"Am I old enough for a booster seat? Am I old enough to drink coffee? Am I old enough to go to clown school?" (all real questions asked regularly)--and Pie on the other--"I caaaaan't do it! Feed me! You do it!"

Trouble. I got it coming from all sides. Would you rather have heard about Adam? He's sitting in the chair next to me. Fast asleep. Yeah, I didn't think so.