WAH! I'd been so looking forward to our perfectly-timed class with our longtime favorite swim teacher, Gina.
But, it turns out, we were on the schedule for an earlier time (and hence late today), and, Gina isn't teaching on Wednesdays! I was so bummed. Especially since having Julian and Katrina in the class means I need extra help from the teacher we do have. But our teacher also runs the swim school, quite often during the lessons. Today I spent a good 5 minutes (out of 20) holding Julian and Katrina while waiting for him to resolve something. This was especially hard since Julian was crying and really really needed my full attention. (He got over it in playtime.)
The good news, however, is that I signed Julian and Katrina up on Mondays also, with Teacher Gina. It's at noon, not necessarily the best time, but there's a good chance Katrina won't be napping then. 3 out of 7 Mondays, however, I'll have to bring Gabriel with us, and hope that he won't be too sad about not joining his sister and brother in the water.
It's worth it though; we've had Gina for years, and she was very supportive and sweet last summer when I was so miserably pregnant. She gave me specific orders to come back this summer with the baby, which she was completely convinced would be a girl. She wouldn't hear of the other possibility.
The other good news is that Katrina had a grand time in swim class today, not crying at all. Despite swimming only once a week, she now totally "gets" jumping into the water, scrunching up her little face in anticipation right before going under. She is almost able to jump off the side, impeded partly by the tiny lip at the edge of the pool, but she can jump in from a step in playtime. With all the wiggling and kicking she does on land, she should take quickly to swimming!
More comments today about how little Katrina is, and surprised reactions when I tell them she's almost 8 months old. When I look around at other babies in swim class, I can see why. She seems littler and littler as her behavior matures faster than her petite little body. We're developing a series of 'P' nicknames for her -- the boys love calling her Pixie Peanut, and now we've tacked on Pipsqueak (thank you Stacey for that one!).
I survived another afternoon today, partly because I got Julian in his room for a nap. He never took one, but at least he was out of the picture for an hour. That makes a huge difference in my ability to deal with the boys for many hours.
People often ask how it is with 3 kids, and my answer hasn't changed: it's not 3 kids, it's 2 boys that gets me. Young boys, close in age, the older one having the much stronger personality, and the younger one being 3. Not the ideal scenario. That said, whenever I see or read something about the deep bond that many grown men have with their brothers, I feel warm and happy that they have each other, and a tiny pang of regret that there isn't another brother in the mix. For a fleeting moment, that is, until the inevitable crash, cry and ensuing chaos shatters my fraternal reverie.
No photos today. Taking advantage of extended daylight, I made a hasty escape this evening, and tackled part of the PG&E trail at Rancho San Antonio. 4.5 miles, about half of that hills. I'm pooped.