Last week I met my friend Jess for a glass of wine in front of a roaring, albeit fake, fire at West on Center. While we chatted about the new and exciting developments in our lives, our conversation naturally shifted to Caitlin and all of new and exciting developments in her life-walking backward, Caitlin's first time on a sled, Caitlin's love of Brussel sprouts. As we talked, I bragged about Caitlin's growing vocabulary. She seems to learn a new word every few days. Jess said her mother kept a list of her first words, organized by month. She asked if I wrote down Caitlin's words. Shamefully, no. Since it is a new year and a time for new beginnings, I resolve to write more, more lists, more blog posts. If I fail to document these exciting times of change for Caitlin, I know they will be forgotten. So here it is, Caitlin's first vocabulary list:
Caitlin's words-16 1/2 mos.
Mama (her first word at around 9 mos.)
Daddy/Dada
Doggy
Puppy
Bella
Ball
Papa
Cookie
Cracker
More
O.k.
No (one of her favorites)
All done
Baa (a sheep sound, that counts, right?)
Ducky,
Jackie (Matt's cousin whose name Caitlin said over and over after he joined us for Sunday dinner)
Uh Oh! (another favorite)
Bye Bye
Hi
Juice
Moo
Caitlin has used some of these words just a handful of times, but I think that counts. It's so exciting watching Caitlin learn to express what she wants and how she feels. I feel like any day now she is going to wake up and speak in sentences. The girl loves to talk! I wonder where she gets that from....
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Trick Or Treat
Caitlin celebrated her second Halloween as a playful pup, which seemed appropriate since she spends much of her day on all fours, barking, playing with Bella's doggy toys, and even sampling some of Bella's dog food every now and again. Caitlin is already a dog lover, so we thought she'd be thrilled to dress like a dog for a night! 
As you can see from the picture above, we were wrong. The doggy head was too traumatizing for C, so it only lasted about five minutes.
After removing le piece de resistance, Caitlin's costume rendered a more ambiguous look. Only the dog bone collar gave people the slightest inkling of the costume's true intent. I think most people assumed she was just wearing a very warm sweater. Oh well. Caitlin had fun cruising the neighborhood with cousin Keira. We visited three houses and snagged a few pieces of candy (for mom and dad). One neighbor gave Caitlin a package of animal crackers, which was a big hit with our little Trick or Treater.
I think Caitlin may find trick or treating more exciting next year. This year she preferred dumping the candy bowl on the floor over and over again. At least she did not sleep through the Halloween festivities like last year!
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Bumps and Bruises
I jinxed myself. The day after I wrote my last post, Caitlin went from hesitantly taking an occasional step to quite literally running all by herself. Don't get me wrong, I was thrilled about Caitlin reaching this huge milestone. Watching her walk around the coffee table over and over again provided the most exciting entertainment I've seen in a long, long time-or at least since the series finale of Lost. However, with walking comes falling, with falling comes injury. With injury comes bruising, and that makes this mama really upset.
On Friday, while I sat in my classroom calculating the hours until 2:30, I mean...teaching, I received a phone call from Caitlin's day care teacher. The phone call went something like this:
Daycare: "Hi Becky. It's Kristen from Sprouts."
Me: "Oh no, another fever?" (Anytime Kristen from Sprouts calls my classroom, it is not good news.)
Daycare: "No, no. I just want to let you know that Caitlin is fine, but she did fall down and has a bruise on her face."
Me: "Why wasn't she wearing her protective helmet?!?!"
Just kidding. Me: "Oh poor thing! What happened?"
Daycare: "Well, she was walking around the room, lost her balance, and fell face first into the side of the table. She was upset, but she is fine now."
Me: "Oh God, is she bleeding? Have you applied ice? Have you checked her pupils? Does she have a concussion?"
Again, kidding. That is what I wanted to say, but I actually surprised myself by remaining calm and collected. The real me said: "That is o.k. Now that she is walking, she is going to fall down. She is going to get hurt. It's just what happens when kids learn to walk. Is she o.k. now?"
Daycare: "She is fine. She's playing. She does have a bruise, but it's not swollen. We put ice on her cheek for a few minutes and she is back to her old, happy self."
I am sure this is the first of many injuries for my little toddler. As she learns to negotiate her way in the world, Caitlin will fall, she will get hurt, she will cry. I cannot recall many times I ended up in the emergency room as a child, but I know it was a regular occurrence-my poor mom endured everything from broken arms to a sliced open face. Apart from wearing a helmet and a fully padded bodysuit, there is little I can do to prevent every accident, every injury. I want many things for Caitlin, but above all else, I wish for her to be safe, healthy, and happy. A little bruise along the way is just a part of gaining independence, a part of growing up.
On Friday, while I sat in my classroom calculating the hours until 2:30, I mean...teaching, I received a phone call from Caitlin's day care teacher. The phone call went something like this:
Daycare: "Hi Becky. It's Kristen from Sprouts."
Me: "Oh no, another fever?" (Anytime Kristen from Sprouts calls my classroom, it is not good news.)
Daycare: "No, no. I just want to let you know that Caitlin is fine, but she did fall down and has a bruise on her face."
Me: "Why wasn't she wearing her protective helmet?!?!"
Just kidding. Me: "Oh poor thing! What happened?"
Daycare: "Well, she was walking around the room, lost her balance, and fell face first into the side of the table. She was upset, but she is fine now."
Me: "Oh God, is she bleeding? Have you applied ice? Have you checked her pupils? Does she have a concussion?"
Again, kidding. That is what I wanted to say, but I actually surprised myself by remaining calm and collected. The real me said: "That is o.k. Now that she is walking, she is going to fall down. She is going to get hurt. It's just what happens when kids learn to walk. Is she o.k. now?"
Daycare: "She is fine. She's playing. She does have a bruise, but it's not swollen. We put ice on her cheek for a few minutes and she is back to her old, happy self."
I am sure this is the first of many injuries for my little toddler. As she learns to negotiate her way in the world, Caitlin will fall, she will get hurt, she will cry. I cannot recall many times I ended up in the emergency room as a child, but I know it was a regular occurrence-my poor mom endured everything from broken arms to a sliced open face. Apart from wearing a helmet and a fully padded bodysuit, there is little I can do to prevent every accident, every injury. I want many things for Caitlin, but above all else, I wish for her to be safe, healthy, and happy. A little bruise along the way is just a part of gaining independence, a part of growing up.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Taking Baby Steps
About a month ago, I arrived at work at the same time as a co-worker, a kindly, yet socially awkward grandmother of two. We walked into the building together, exchanging casual pleasantries about our new school building and the beautiful September weather. As we approached the building, she asked about Caitlin. I told her about some of Caitlin's newest tricks-saying, "uh oh," pretending to read books, and shaking her head yes or no. Despite this impressive array of skills, my indifferent co-worker asked, "Is she walking yet?" Baby C was thirteen months old and yet to take a single unassisted step. "No, not by herself," I replied. "Ohthat'so.k!" my co-worker responded, just a bit too quickly. Do you really think that is o.k., or are you pretending when you really think my daughter has a gross motor developmental delay? "Yes, of course it's o.k." I responded, trying to project confidence and annoyance all at once. Thank goodness we finally went through the door and parted ways, ending a potentially obnoxious conversation before it really began.
Truthfully, I worried Caitlin had yet to take independent steps. Isn't thirteen months a little on the late side? Many of my friends' children walked much earlier. My mother often tells me I walked at eleven months (although she probably thinks I could read at eleven months, too). Don't get me wrong, Caitlin walked all over the place while holding furniture, pushing a toy or a small chair, or resting her hand against a wall for support. She could even stand alone, then go from standing to squatting or sitting, and back to standing again. The girl had moves, she just seemed reluctant to show off her moves all by herself. Caitlin approaches most things with caution, therefore I was not surprised by her hesitance to walk independently. I reassured myself that she would walk when she felt ready, however the constant "Is she walking?" line of questioning raised some insecurities. Would Caitlin be content to crawl and cruise forever more?
Sometimes when I feel anxious, I give my anxiety a timeline. I decided not to worry about Caitlin's lack of walking until she turned fourteen months old. In the meantime, I would help my hesitant little one get excited about taking steps. I tried many different tricks-holding out a sippy cup of juice or a snack just out of Caitlin's reach, placing a favorite toy just a few steps ahead, or even letting go of C's hand while we walked around the house. Each time, she stood for a moment, negotiating her next move. And each time, she decided to get down on all fours and crawl. Caitlin is clever: why walk when she could get that piece of cheese or stuffed animal much faster by crawling? As the fourteen month mark approached, I felt my anxiety build slowly.
The week before C's fourteen month "birthday," Matt and I went to Newport for the weekend, leaving C in Nana's care. We returned just in time to witness Caitlin take her first independent steps across Nana's kitchen floor. Her steps were met with huge cheers from all of us lucky enough to witness such a special moment. After three unsteady steps, Caitlin plopped down and crawled away, relieved to find the safety of the nearby floor and get away from us screaming lunatics.
Since that afternoon, Caitlin has taken many more steps, still wobbly, still only three or four at a time. Crawling, or holding the hand of a trusted adult remain her preferred choices. As I watch Caitlin determinedly teeter up our front walkway, I often think back to that early morning conversation at work which led to such anxiety. How could I let somebody raise such feelings of insecurity about my amazing little munchkin? Caitlin does things when she is good and ready. She proceeds with caution. She takes baby steps. As her mother, I know this much is true about my daughter. As her mother, I also know other people's expectations and ideas of "what is normal" are just not very important. Still, this is something I must remind myself of often. Just like my daughter, I'm working on this, taking baby steps.
Truthfully, I worried Caitlin had yet to take independent steps. Isn't thirteen months a little on the late side? Many of my friends' children walked much earlier. My mother often tells me I walked at eleven months (although she probably thinks I could read at eleven months, too). Don't get me wrong, Caitlin walked all over the place while holding furniture, pushing a toy or a small chair, or resting her hand against a wall for support. She could even stand alone, then go from standing to squatting or sitting, and back to standing again. The girl had moves, she just seemed reluctant to show off her moves all by herself. Caitlin approaches most things with caution, therefore I was not surprised by her hesitance to walk independently. I reassured myself that she would walk when she felt ready, however the constant "Is she walking?" line of questioning raised some insecurities. Would Caitlin be content to crawl and cruise forever more?
Sometimes when I feel anxious, I give my anxiety a timeline. I decided not to worry about Caitlin's lack of walking until she turned fourteen months old. In the meantime, I would help my hesitant little one get excited about taking steps. I tried many different tricks-holding out a sippy cup of juice or a snack just out of Caitlin's reach, placing a favorite toy just a few steps ahead, or even letting go of C's hand while we walked around the house. Each time, she stood for a moment, negotiating her next move. And each time, she decided to get down on all fours and crawl. Caitlin is clever: why walk when she could get that piece of cheese or stuffed animal much faster by crawling? As the fourteen month mark approached, I felt my anxiety build slowly.
The week before C's fourteen month "birthday," Matt and I went to Newport for the weekend, leaving C in Nana's care. We returned just in time to witness Caitlin take her first independent steps across Nana's kitchen floor. Her steps were met with huge cheers from all of us lucky enough to witness such a special moment. After three unsteady steps, Caitlin plopped down and crawled away, relieved to find the safety of the nearby floor and get away from us screaming lunatics.
Since that afternoon, Caitlin has taken many more steps, still wobbly, still only three or four at a time. Crawling, or holding the hand of a trusted adult remain her preferred choices. As I watch Caitlin determinedly teeter up our front walkway, I often think back to that early morning conversation at work which led to such anxiety. How could I let somebody raise such feelings of insecurity about my amazing little munchkin? Caitlin does things when she is good and ready. She proceeds with caution. She takes baby steps. As her mother, I know this much is true about my daughter. As her mother, I also know other people's expectations and ideas of "what is normal" are just not very important. Still, this is something I must remind myself of often. Just like my daughter, I'm working on this, taking baby steps.
Friday, August 27, 2010
Birthday Girl
Happy Birthday to Caitlin! Believe it or not, Caitlin turned one on August 23rd. It seems unimaginable that our once mushy, sleepy baby is now well on her way to becoming a walking and talking toddler. Before I know it, she'll be packing up her sensible, slightly used sedan and driving off to college. But before I get ahead of myself, I want to share some highlights from Caitlin's big day.
Birthday Highlight Number One: Due to her inexplicable love of monkeys, Caitlin had a monkey-themed birthday party complete with monkey balloons, monkey cups, monkey plates, monkey toys, banana cupcakes, well...you get the idea. Seeing monkeys all over our home evoked squeals of delight from the birthday girl.
Birthday Highlight Number Two: Presents, more specifically, the wrapping paper from presents. I'm sure deep inside Caitlin felt really excited about her new toys, outfits, and other gifts, but she only displayed outward enthusiasm for wrapping paper and ribbon.
Birthday Highlight Number Three: Playing with her cousins Keira, Josh, Luke, and Ryan. Caitlin loves crawling around and trying to keep up with her cousins. At one point, all five cousins were in the dining room clamoring around Caitlin's Exersaucer. Caitlin loved trading sippy cups with cousin Ryan and showing off her toys to Keira, Josh, and Luke.
Birthday Highlight Number Four: The Radio Flyer Pathfinder wagon. Matt and I purchased this souped-up wagon for Caitlin's big day. She loved sitting in the wagon with her stuffed animals, cruising around the outside of the wagon, and attempting to stand inside of the wagon despite my urgent protests.
And last, but certainly not least, Birthday Highlight Number Five: Cupcakes! Caitlin could not believe we allowed her to eat an entire cupcake. When we placed the cupcake on her high chair tray, Caitlin looked at us as if to say, "What do you want me to do with this thing? Why isn't this cut into minuscule, choke-proof pieces like all of my other food?" After giving Caitlin a tiny taste of frosting, all anxiety disappeared and she dove right in and devoured her entire banana cupcake. Caitlin also won the newly established, yet very prestigious, award for Cleanest Cupcake Eater as she avoided the typical frosting in the hair, eyes, ears, etc.
Caitlin's first birthday was filled with family and fun (and monkeys), which was just what we wanted. I am so grateful for the love and support from friends and family as our own family found our way this past year. Happy Birthday not only to Caitlin, but to our little family of three.
Nutritious and Weelicious
Since Caitlin began eating solid foods I tried to make most of her meals from scratch. Sure, opening a jar of baby food is convenient, fast, and necessary in a pinch, however, I feel a whole lot better giving Caitlin something homemade. By making my own food, I know exactly what goes into her meals and I can ensure each dish contains fresh, healthy ingredients. Believe it or not, making homemade food also saves our family money because I purchase ingredients that work in Caitlin's recipes as well as recipes for the grown-ups. Caitlin moved past pureed and mashed food a while back, which means I needed to expand my recipe repertoire. I wanted recipes that are quick, healthy, and travel well in a lunchbox-especially since Caitlin is heading back to day care next week. My friend introduced me to Weelicious, http://www.weelicious.com/, which offers hundreds of recipes, cooking tips, and meal plan suggestions for infants, toddlers, big kids, and whole families.
Catherine Wheeler, a professionally trained chef and mother of two, started Weelicious to share fast, easy, and healthy recipes with busy moms in search of kid-friendly, nutritious food. Weelicious organizes recipes by age group, meal type, or ingredient. There are even recipes dedicated to children with various allergies or dietary restrictions. Most recipes involve very few ingredients and require nothing more than a food processor, stove, or oven. Weelicious recipes take tried and true kid favorites, such as mac n' cheese or PB&J, and substitute processed, artificial, unhealthy ingredients with nutritious, natural alternatives, such as using agave nectar in place of sugar. Not only does Weelicious feature tons of recipes, the website also contains how-to videos showcasing Catherine cooking with her children. I especially like that many Weelicious recipes work for whole family meals, which saves time and energy in the kitchen.
Weelicious is also committed to improving school lunch by offering healthy and fun alternatives to standard lunch fare. Each day, Catherine takes a picture of her pre-schooler's packed lunch box and shares her delicious recipes on both her website and Facebook page. Yesterday, her son ate spinach gnocch-wee, a pb&j panini, yogurt pretzels, pomegranate seeds, and honeydew melon. My lunch of cheese toast seems slightly lackluster and pathetic by comparison. While most busy moms lack the time to cook something homemade each night for the next day's lunch, many Weelicious recipes are no-cook, such as Hummus Pinwheels or Cream Cheese and Tomato Sammies. Weelicious shows offering wholesome, fresh lunches is not necessarily time consuming or expensive. Good-bye Lunchables!
This week, Matt travelled for work and it rained four days straight, which motivated me to spend some time in the kitchen trying out Weelicious recipes. I made Zucchini Muffins, Banana Wee-eat Germ Muffins, Weezpacho, Ratatouille, Avocado and Cheese Quesadillas, and Fruit and Oat Bars. Each recipe took very little time to prep and incorporated lots of ingredients I had on hand, but better yet everything tastes delicious, I mean, weelicious. Now my refrigerator and freezer are stocked with plenty of back to school meals and snacks for Caitlin (and for myself!).
There is something quaint and nostalgic about food marketed especially for kids. I admit, when I walk past a jar of Fluff in the grocery store, I get a little weepy and reminisce about all of the Fluffernutters I ate growing up. Fluff, Spaghetti-O's, and Kraft Macaroni and Cheese all remind me of my childhood favorites and I do not think there is anything wrong with offering such novelties, as long as they remain just that, rather than part of a steady diet. I want Caitlin to cultivate a diverse and experienced palate at young age. I want her to learn what a chickpea is before the age of 18 (discovering chickpeas are not green in my college dining hall was totally embarrassing). Weelicious allows parents to prepare healthy, fun, and easy meals for kids. It gives kids the opportunity to become more adventurous eaters than their parents. I'm excited to incorporate Weelicious recipes into our everyday meals. Now if you'll excuse me, there are some homemade fruit bars in the kitchen that need my attention.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
We Put the Poo in Pool
"Quick! Get the skimmer!" shouted Mike, our swimming instructor, to the lifeguard standing on the deck above. As Mike frantically skimmed the water, I grabbed Caitlin, holding her body above the surface, and exited the pool as quickly as possible, dodging unsuspecting parents swimming happily with their calm, content babies. A moment before, we swam among them. Calm, content.
Just before our abrupt exit from the water, I held Caitlin as she practiced kicking her legs. We walked back and forth across the shallow end. Caitlin floated along, enjoying her time in the warm water, moving her legs like a little frog. As we reached the end of the shallow end, I noticed something else floating among the toy boats and balls designated for our Water Babies class. Poop! Poop was everywhere, small pieces floating in the water around us, more leaking out of Caitlin's bathing suit, and still more on my hands. In that moment of recognition, our calm, content swimming lesson turned into a disgusting, crappy mess.
As soon as I noticed my daughter's untimely explosion, I swam nearby Mike and said, "I'm so sorry. She had an accident, it's poop!" Without waiting to see his look of disapproval and disgust, Caitlin and I left the pool, grabbed our tote bag, and hauled ass to the nearest changing room.
As I tried to clean Caitlin, I imagined the other members of our swimming lesson noticing the mess, screaming, swimming away, jumping out of the pool, and running to the front desk to file a formal complaint with not only the gym, but the Board of Health. As I tried to remove all traces of poop from my wet baby (not an easy task-water and poo is a nasty combination), I expected to hear screams and the arrival of a Haz-Mat team to decontaminate the pool. How could I go back out there? This was the single most embarrassing thing that could happen at a swimming lesson, except maybe Caitlin pulling off my bathing suit. As I used wipe after wipe without much success, my anxiety grew and grew. Would Mike let us back in the water? Would we receive a reprimand for Caitlin's special delivery? Would the other parents black list us or make us wear a scarlet P on our bathing suits?
I had no idea what to expect when we left the changing room. The incident occurred just five minutes into our lesson, so I had a clear choice to make: either hide in the changing room until the lesson ended and sneak out unnoticed, or suck it up and get back into the pool. I looked at Caitlin on the changing table, adorable in her pink bathing suit, smiling, wet hair plastering her face. Leaving early or hiding in a two by two changing room for twenty-five minutes would be unfair. Caitlin did not intend to cause harm, she just did what babies do-poop whenever they feel the need regardless of time or place. Ending our swimming lesson would be unjust punishment and only make us seem even more weird and socially inappropriate.
After using our thirty-fifth wipe, I deemed C's mess officially clean and humbly, slowly trudged back toward the pool. Hesitantly, I lifted my head and looked toward the shallow end. Nobody ran away. Nobody was screaming. Mamas and Papas held kicking, splashing squealing babies as they walked back and forth. Mike shouted instructions and offered praise. Nothing changed. We slid back into the now clean water and returned to practicing kicks, as though nothing happened.
I am not sure if anybody noticed Caitlin's poo in the water, but even if they did nobody seemed to care. The Poop in the Water incident taught me a few things. First, no matter how embarrassed I feel, Caitlin does not yet know embarrassment. Depriving her of something she loves because I am mortified is unfair. Beyond that, maybe I need to stop becoming so easily embarrassed. Having a baby means humiliating things happen, and unfortunately those things usually involve poop. If I panic and hide each time, we will never be able to leave the house, furthermore that is not a lesson I want to teach my daughter. Finally, mamas and papas are amazingly tolerant, forgiving people. This could happen to any parent, therefore nobody judged. Nobody even reacted, or if they did, they reacted privately and welcomed us back into the water. Being a parent means embracing the disgustingness and finding the humor in our babies' actions. Being a parent means accepting other parents and their babies, even if they pollute your swimming area.
As soon as I realized we were not expelled from swimming, I relaxed and Caitlin enjoyed the rest of our swimming lesson. She even dunked under water. We will go back next week, even if everybody secretly thinks of us as "The Family that Poops in the Pool." I am looking into wrapping Caitlin's lower half entirely in extra strength Saran Wrap next week, but I will not let a little poo keep us out of the water.
Just before our abrupt exit from the water, I held Caitlin as she practiced kicking her legs. We walked back and forth across the shallow end. Caitlin floated along, enjoying her time in the warm water, moving her legs like a little frog. As we reached the end of the shallow end, I noticed something else floating among the toy boats and balls designated for our Water Babies class. Poop! Poop was everywhere, small pieces floating in the water around us, more leaking out of Caitlin's bathing suit, and still more on my hands. In that moment of recognition, our calm, content swimming lesson turned into a disgusting, crappy mess.
As soon as I noticed my daughter's untimely explosion, I swam nearby Mike and said, "I'm so sorry. She had an accident, it's poop!" Without waiting to see his look of disapproval and disgust, Caitlin and I left the pool, grabbed our tote bag, and hauled ass to the nearest changing room.
As I tried to clean Caitlin, I imagined the other members of our swimming lesson noticing the mess, screaming, swimming away, jumping out of the pool, and running to the front desk to file a formal complaint with not only the gym, but the Board of Health. As I tried to remove all traces of poop from my wet baby (not an easy task-water and poo is a nasty combination), I expected to hear screams and the arrival of a Haz-Mat team to decontaminate the pool. How could I go back out there? This was the single most embarrassing thing that could happen at a swimming lesson, except maybe Caitlin pulling off my bathing suit. As I used wipe after wipe without much success, my anxiety grew and grew. Would Mike let us back in the water? Would we receive a reprimand for Caitlin's special delivery? Would the other parents black list us or make us wear a scarlet P on our bathing suits?
I had no idea what to expect when we left the changing room. The incident occurred just five minutes into our lesson, so I had a clear choice to make: either hide in the changing room until the lesson ended and sneak out unnoticed, or suck it up and get back into the pool. I looked at Caitlin on the changing table, adorable in her pink bathing suit, smiling, wet hair plastering her face. Leaving early or hiding in a two by two changing room for twenty-five minutes would be unfair. Caitlin did not intend to cause harm, she just did what babies do-poop whenever they feel the need regardless of time or place. Ending our swimming lesson would be unjust punishment and only make us seem even more weird and socially inappropriate.
After using our thirty-fifth wipe, I deemed C's mess officially clean and humbly, slowly trudged back toward the pool. Hesitantly, I lifted my head and looked toward the shallow end. Nobody ran away. Nobody was screaming. Mamas and Papas held kicking, splashing squealing babies as they walked back and forth. Mike shouted instructions and offered praise. Nothing changed. We slid back into the now clean water and returned to practicing kicks, as though nothing happened.
I am not sure if anybody noticed Caitlin's poo in the water, but even if they did nobody seemed to care. The Poop in the Water incident taught me a few things. First, no matter how embarrassed I feel, Caitlin does not yet know embarrassment. Depriving her of something she loves because I am mortified is unfair. Beyond that, maybe I need to stop becoming so easily embarrassed. Having a baby means humiliating things happen, and unfortunately those things usually involve poop. If I panic and hide each time, we will never be able to leave the house, furthermore that is not a lesson I want to teach my daughter. Finally, mamas and papas are amazingly tolerant, forgiving people. This could happen to any parent, therefore nobody judged. Nobody even reacted, or if they did, they reacted privately and welcomed us back into the water. Being a parent means embracing the disgustingness and finding the humor in our babies' actions. Being a parent means accepting other parents and their babies, even if they pollute your swimming area.
As soon as I realized we were not expelled from swimming, I relaxed and Caitlin enjoyed the rest of our swimming lesson. She even dunked under water. We will go back next week, even if everybody secretly thinks of us as "The Family that Poops in the Pool." I am looking into wrapping Caitlin's lower half entirely in extra strength Saran Wrap next week, but I will not let a little poo keep us out of the water.
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