I Survived Swimming Class Part 2

After four weeks of crying and sputtering, we came to the end of our time with Infant Swimming Resource.
On the last day, Rosie looked at me doubtfully.
"Are you sure?" she asked.
"Yes, today is our last day."
"And no more after this?"
"Yes, no more."
"Never, ever, ever?"
Well, there could be no promises. After all, they do need refresher courses yearly, but it's too hard to explain now, so I nodded, soul turning black.

It's an understatement to say Rosie disliked swimming classes, but the results were undeniable. Somewhere, between all the whining and flailing and burping (they got horrible swim burps, it sounded like projectile vomiting), the kids had learned to swim. During their lessons they have shown, without a thought, a propensity to turn to wall and reach for it. It's a small victory, but in the chaos of falling into the pool, how many children have failed to save themselves while just a couple feet from the edge?

Simon was not a strong kicker. He was teething horribly during his lessons, and apparently it made his limbs go straight like a board. But Rosie could kick up a storm. Here is some video of her swimming during the last week of lessons:

I have nothing but good things to say about their teacher. She was the perfect balance of firm and loving, so while she didn't let crying get in the way of the lesson, she was soothing and consistent. At the end of our time with her, Simon would swim to the wall, turn around and swim back to her – all while crying of course, but his teaching was glowing. "We're bonding!" she told me.

A couple weeks back, I took the kids to the community pool. It had been a couple months since their last swim lesson, so their enthusiasm for the pool had returned. I let them play on the steps but didn't dare to stick anything but my feet in the water it was so cold. Simon walked to the far side of the steps and turned so his back was the the water. In just a split second, he lost his balance and fell backward into the pool. I stood up quickly to help him, but in the few seconds it took me to get to him, he flipped over onto his belly and started to wave his arms to turn towards the steps. He was holding his breath, and his eyes searched for the wall. It had been a long time since he had been in the water, but he had instinctually remembered what to do.

When I pulled him out of the water, he started crying and shivering, but he was okay. And I? I was just amazed.

I Survived Swimming Class (and no, I did not get in the water) Part 1

Early fall was marked by the start of something life-changingly terrifying: swimming class for kids. It's generally a good idea in Florida because the neighborhoods are dotted with pools and retention ponds. So we enrolled our 3-year old girl and 1-year old boy in Infant Swimming Resource classes. This is a 4-day-a-week, 10-minutes-a-day, tear-soaked class. When I parked outside the swim instructor's home, I could find the way to the backyard pool by following the echoing sounds of infant crying.

Rosie clutched my hand apprehensively, but was still excited to get in the water. She had, after all, been in her grandparent's pool and played gleefully on the steps for many an afternoon. When she entered the pool, she clung stiffly to the instructor, trying to be brave. Within the first 20 seconds of being in the pool, the instructor dipped her head underwater. This is the same girl that cries vehemently when you wash her hair and water drips in her eye. Well, from that moment on, Rosie's bravery dissolved and she burst into loud, savage tears. The crying only stopped when she went underwater. To me the crying was heart-wrenching but also reassuring. It meant she was still alive and breathing.

Simon cried all through his lesson too.

Here is a photo of each of their expressions during their first lesson:

Rosie is trying hard not to cry. 

Simon is looking at me for help. He's wondering why I'm clapping.

After the first lesson, it was like Rosie had snapped. She screamed in the car, "Let's not go back." When her father asked her about swim class, she ran and hid. When it was time for a bath, she refused to get in the tub. The next morning, while she was still wiping sleep from her eyes, the first thing she asked was if we had to go back. When she heard my answer, she laid on the floor and sobbed. When I tried to coax her into the car, she fled as if it was on fire. She was obsessed, crazed, and beyond stressed. This is what ISR is like for a 3-year-old.

My 1-year-old, however, was easier to handle. He could compartmentalize the experience (or forget it). So the moment he was out of the pool, he would return to his former happy self. 

Now, I'm not trying to discourage people from taking ISR. It's something that could save your child's life. I'm just trying prep the parents for the reality of what it can be like. And it was hard! 

So how did we continue to bring Rosie and Simon to ISR everyday, never missing a day? 

Hatchimals. 

It's a $3 toy that is just enough to soothe a tortured soul. Every time Rosie would cry in the mornings before swim class, all I'd have to do was yell out, "Hatchimal!" and like a trigger-word, she would cease. 

A spoonful of Hatchimal helps the medicine go down.

I don't know if I'd suggest the toy-bribe method every time your child needs to do something hard, but in the case of Rosie's extreme anxiety, it was the way to go.

Something that I learned through this experience is that communication with your child is vital. After a couple weeks of class, Rosie's dad was snuggling close to her before bed. She said for the hundredth time, "I don't want to go to swim class tomorrow."

"Why is that?"

"The teacher drops me in the water." 

"Well, she needs to do that. That way you learn to swim."

"I don't want her to let go."

"Why?"

"If she lets go, I need to swim. If I don't swim, I'll sink to the bottom and die."

"You will not die. If you sink to the bottom, the teacher will get you and pick you up."

Her dad relayed this conversation to me, and at the time we chuckled at her dramatic take on things. Later, however, I reflected on her feelings – how swimming was a matter of life or death. How alone she felt struggling in the water, not sure if anyone would save her. It helped me to be more comforting and understanding towards her when she stressed out before swim class. It made me appreciate the true bravery she had, getting into the pool everyday and facing what she thought was death. I also noticed the confidence she began to have after learning more and more. "I did it!" she said to me one day, still dripping pool water from her lesson. "I'm so proud!" I said back. 

Well, how did it all end up? Did ISR work? Was it worth it? I'll let you know in Part 2!

Lemonade Entrepreneurs

Not one summer can pass without the attempt of making it big by selling lemonade. During the 15 minutes we were outside, we had five customers! All five were from our neighbors next-door. Rosie is saving up to go on the merry-go-round at the zoo.

Simon looks grown up with his new haircut via Mom Cuts Hair While He Watches TV Inc.

Come hither.

It's hard to get Rosie to smile at this age. Sometime I can get her to smile if I say, "poop."

She actually likes licking lemons.

As you can see, the lemonade in the pitcher is almost all gone. A lot of it is in Simon's shirt.

Goodbye summer! You've been good to us.

Four Generations of Van Wagoners

We went to my sister-in-law's wedding last week, and the kids had the chance to meet their great-grandfather (on the Van Wagoner line) for the first time! So we had to get a four generations shot. As you can see, handsomeness runs in the family...

Also, I attempted to get a shot of all the grandkids on a bench in the backyard. I felt like I was herding a group of chickens! 

Anyway, being with family this past week has helped me to appreciate the whirlwind of activity and craziness and fun that family gatherings bring. That's why I love weddings. It pulls everyone together, and it's like you've never been apart. 

Why I Love and Hate Disney World

As a little girl, I went to Disneyland one time, and I dimly remember it being the greatest day of my life – the pinnacle of existence. As an adult, I wonder why I thought that. Now, I have the chance to go to Disney World quite often. The bulk of the time is spent dashing from air-conditioned shop to air-conditioned restaurant, squeezing in between sweaty people, and waiting in line - to get your bags searched, to swipe your ticket, to use the restroom, and maybe ride a ride. Disney, in its mere popularity, has cursed itself with an unpleasant atmosphere. But then something happened last week that helped me remember why I loved Disney as a little girl.

It was 4th of July, and I brought Rosie to the Magic Kingdom for the first time that she could remember it. It was hot and crowded. It took 30 minutes to walk from our car to the the monorail that would take us into the park. Within that 30 minutes, I had developed blisters between my toes and on the sides of my feet.

As we surged with the crowd into the park, someone appropriately said, "mooooo." As we passed Goofy and other Disney characters in full get-up, I could only imagine the oven it must be in those suits.

Then we rode a ride - the Buzz Lightyear ride, an interactive continuous motion ride where you can shoot targets with a laser from your car. Rosie rode with her dad and grandmother in the car ahead of us, and I could only catch small glimpses of her wide eyes and mad scramble to control her laser gun. It was a chaotic experience, and I wonder what she got from it.

After we shuffled off the ride, I took Rosie to the bathroom, and in the relative quiet of the bathroom, I asked her how she liked the ride. "I beat the aliens," she happily said. "Good!" I replied. Then she became serious. "Mom, tomorrow, I will be stronger."

For some reason, that struck me as very profound. This 3 minute ride opened up the imagination of a 3-year old. It put her in a winning situation, and let her "beat the aliens", something that she no doubt will have to do figuratively in life. But what touched me most was the resolve she had after the ride. "I will be stronger."

Of all the things that happened that day, Rosie didn't see the heat, the crowds, the sweat. She saw that she could be strong and would be stronger.

I think that's why I loved Disney as a little girl. It opened my eyes to what I could do and be. So while there are many things that make Disney unpleasant, I'm glad I got to experience it through the eyes of a child once more.

The Blessing and Curse of Photos Now-a-Days

I once went to a familiar museum with a friend expecting a nice afternoon of strolling, looking, and eating. I left traumatized. At every exhibit or turn of the corner, a picture needed to be taken. At first, I thought it was humorous - my friend was so enamored she had to memorialize everything I felt mundane. Then, a couple hours later, I felt itching to get out of our photo-taking prison. The museum was huge, but with our photo-taking frenzy we had only stumbled through the first floor! It was as if the camera - the thing meant to capture our memories - had usurped the moment.

I'm guilty of this too. I went to Seaworld with my family, and though my family can recall things like the spray of the dolphins or the smell of the popcorn, I can only recall looking through the tiny screen in my camcorder and trying not to trip as I walked.

It got me thinking about our photo taking habits compared to those in the past.

Photos Now-a-days

I took these pictures because I was bored and I kept on taking pictures because I didn't like my smile. This is why my phone is flooded with retakes.

The convenient and data-efficient phone-cameras now-a-days create an atmosphere for photo/video flooding. Now when we seek to capture a moment, we not only capture it once, but from many different angles. Being able to see the photo digitally, moments after it was taken, has made me develop some vanity issues. If my hair is off or I've smiled a little too wide, I want to fix it right away and take another picture. This drives my husband crazy, and by the time we're in the photo op 3-4 pictures, everyone has become more posed but less genuine.

Selfies are convenient, but the photo quality goes down. I cringe when I see people taking a selfie in front of a beautiful vista because their face will be covering half the frame. If you are taking a selfie to show your face, okay. If you are taking a selfie to capture an event in your life or a location, consider asking a human being for help.

Negatives aside (haha), there is a undeniable benefit to cameras now-a-days. Everyone has their phone with them, so you are able to capture spur-of-the-moment photos or videos. My favorite video is my husband reading a book to Simon and for some odd reason that day, Simon would not stop laughing. I was only able to catch his infectious laugh because my phone was right by me. Never again, would he laugh like that at this book.

Photos A Long Time Ago

This is a picture of my father when he was 11 or 12. 

People have been formally photographed since the 1800s. Initially, exposure times were very long, so subjects had to stay very still - a big reason why early portraits don't show people smiling. When photography became more quicker and accessible, it still wasn't very cheap, so one might only have a few photos per year taken. The resulting photograph is a portrait that offers little clues to who this person actually was. The personality in the photo is gone. 

When I see black and white photos of my ancestors from long ago, I feel like I'm looking in through a long narrow window. I yearn to reach in and communicate with the person in the photo, but with their formal stances and still faces, I am reaching from behind a wall. 

My mother is standing on the right; she was 5 years old. 

Photos From Not That Long Ago

My favorite photos are photos from my childhood – when it was all done on film and taken to a lab to be processed. The camera was convenient enough to be taken out for less formal events – the kids playing together in the bedroom, my mom teaching me how to brush my teeth, etc.  – but not convenient enough to photograph fluff that people find themselves capturing today – like your breakfast or your manicure. 

The time the photos were taken had meaning. I could easily ask my mom, "When was this?" And my mom could answer back, "Oh, it was that one time we went to such-and-such National Park." Now-a-days, if my daughter were to ask me the same question about half the photos in my phone, I'd say, "I'm not sure. It was when I was bored."

I love the feeling I get when looking at these photos from not that long ago. In a time where photos were truly just a snap and then you moved on with life, you can sense the moment captured and you can feel enveloped in it. There is a lot you can divulge from these intimate moments - like how proud my father was to be standing in front of his first house, or how carefree I was as I impishly grinned from behind a tree. 

I like how the kids aren't really posing in this picture, it's like they could barely be corralled for a few seconds before splitting off again. Also, I like how my mom is inadvertently choking me. Perhaps I was the most hyper and needed the most control. 

My mom and dad, standing in front of their first house.

This is what photos are for, to capture a time and place and leave it undisturbed. Let the moment be the main focus, and not the camera. I think our photos now-a-days can be like these photos from not that long ago, if we allow the mindset to change.

Just my thoughts. What about you? 

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

I have aspirations of making a calendar with holiday-themed pictures of my kids. Some months come together a lot easier than others. This month was a toughie.

I looked up St. Patrick's Day photoshoots online, and there is a lot of creativity out there, but a lot of photos included props that cost money. As much as I love the red beard on a baby, or a beautifully knit leprechaun hat from Etsy, I was determined to make this work while spending as little money as possible. Because I need that money to feed my daughter's orange juice addiction.

Here is a list of the props that I painstakingly scavenged the store and found for cheap, not because you want to know, but because I am proud of myself:
1. Rainbow napkins $1.75
2. Glittery hair clip acting as a bowtie $1.00
3. Glittery hair band and bow $1.00
4. Pot and sugar cookies - gift from Grandma, yay!
5. Chocolate gold coins - for the life of me, couldn't find anywhere. Settled on yellow legos.

I'm also proud that I didn't succumb to buying drinking related St. Patrick's day items for this shoot. It was really tempting to buy the flask that said, "Liquid Luck" on it, but I refrained.
Also, why should I kiss someone just because they are Irish? And at what age is it appropriate to teach a child to pinch someone else because of the color of their clothing?

Here is some St. Patrick's Day fun!

Shortly after this picture, Simon threw up cookie.
The dog took care of it.

They do love each other!

They are so good at putting up with their mom. 

Watch Baby Grow Two Years in Two Minutes

This video was two and a half years in the making.
I started reading books to Rosie when she was too young to even focus her eyes. I had great dreams of her becoming a genius; she had my genes after all. One day, after reading a slew of books to her, I noticed she responded especially well to one book in particular: "From Head to Toe." Perhaps it was my funny actions or the fact that the book begged her to participate, but for whatever reason, it was apparent she was enjoying it.
The book repeats a question at the end of each page: Can you do it?
I thought to myself, "one day, this little baby will be able to answer back." That's when I got the idea. What if I filmed myself reading this same book to Rosie over the years until one day, she answers back.
Here is the resulting film. Ever want to watch someone grow two years in two minutes? Enjoy!

How to Feed an Anorexic Toddler

One afternoon, I visited the zoo with a woman from my church. She brought her two youngest children, and at snack time, offered one of them a cucumber. My eyes bulged out of my head as I saw a three-year-old biting at a cucumber like it was an ice cream cone. I looked back at the snacks I had brought for my two-year-old. A juice box and some fruit snacks. Then I looked back at the veggie-loving child with so many questions running through my head. What are you? How? From that moment, I decided I wanted to try to diversify what my daughter ate. Eventually. For now, the problem is more trying to get her to eat food at all.

Feeding a toddler has been a nightmare an adventure. You'd think it would be as simple as putting food in front of her three times a day, but there is a labyrinth of rules and protocols that must be met with exactness.

1. Food cannot mingle with other food.
2. Any fruit with fiber, must be rendered fiberless (no skins).
3. Food must be cut into small pieces or it will be chewed and then spit out.
4. Food must be consumed within 5 minutes or else too much playtime will be sacrificed.
5. Food cannot have any foreign spots on it like oregano, basil, or pepper.
6. Food must accompany 2 cups of sugary juice, lest the belly get too full of nutritious solids.

I could release a handbook - but you get the idea.

I was worried about my daughter's food habits so much, that I decided to keep a photo food diary of what she eats. At first, it was really discouraging. The before and after pictures were almost identical. Did she eat anything? Perhaps a couple noodles went missing, here and there. But as I continued the experiment, it gave me ideas on how to make food more appetizing and fun for my toddler. No, I will not make sushi shaped like pandas for my kid -I have my limits- but there are small things that I could do to help the anorexia subside.


1. Keep your expectations low.



2. Cut your food into fun shapes. Just look at those eggs? How can you keep your hands off them when they are cut like so.



3. Try to make the meal as colorful as possible, excluding the use of sprinkles and food coloring. A+ for creativity, though.



4. When serving something new (like these lonesome lentils), serve it along side something familiar lest the shock be too great.



5. Eat the same food as them, and as you do, gush about how tasty the fruit or veggie is. "Oh my! This is so delicious! It makes me happy I was born!" or something likewise. If this doesn't work, try talking up the food's magical abilities. "If you eat this, you'll grow tall like a tree. Do you want to grow tall like a tree?"


6. Even if they hate something, like corn apparently, keep trying. One day they might accidentally eat it.


7. Let your toddler self-feed as much as possible, or else meal time will be an uphill battle no matter how delicious the meal is. I've noticed finger foods are the first to go because they are easiest to eat.



8. Mix things up with a bowl or fun utensils. One time, my toddler was so interested in eating because I was serving her with a chopstick.



9. Cook with your toddler. Let them stir the pot, open the package, press buttons on the microwave. You may go as far as to let them choose what's for dinner.  That's why we eat macaroni and cheese 2-3 times a week. Here, I attempted to make a smiley face out of the broccoli. I think this works better on pancakes.


10. She ate something! This happens 1 or 2 times a week, where she pretty much cleans her plate. Again, I'm keeping expectations low.

In the end, I think I found a middle ground of helping my toddler eat, but not pulling my hair out as I do it. Now to get her to eat a cucumber raw...

I know it seems like I am the expert of all things, but if you have any suggestions or comments, I'd love to hear.

Oh, and here is how to make panda-shaped sushi, in case I sparked any interest earlier:

http://www.bentomonsters.com/2015/10/panda-penguin-sushi.html