Turn, Kick, Reach

Declan and Hilary graduated from their swim program today, after being tossed into the water and fulfilling the swim school's mantra: turn, kick, reach. Now we can't wait to go home and impress our friends by "accidentally" tripping the kids into the pool and having them turn, kick, reach their way out. They'll stop crying eventually.

In honor of said graduation, we took the kids to Toys R Us to pick out a toy. Hilary picked out a dress-up outfit to add to her arsenal. Gretchen got a baby mirror so she could always look at her favorite person. Aaron got an animal board book, Ronan a small Magna Doodle. And Declan, of course, picked out an underwater rescue set, because it included a small scuba diver. Never mind that the rescue boat was huge and I told Declan he couldn't bring it home because it wouldn't fit in the suitcase. I searched the store for a larger solo scuba diver, one he might actually hold on to for longer than a day, but this set was it.

Later, he was playing with the scuba diver while I changed his diaper. He made the diver swim back and forth, and said "kick to the wall!" I asked him what his scuba diver was doing and Declan said, "turn, kick, reach!"

For the next hour he said little else. I asked him what he should do if he falls in the water.

"Turn, kick, reach!"

After a while, he started chanting it, like a freshly shaved new recruit to the cult of Baby Otter.

"Turn, kick, reach! Turn, kick, reach! Turn, kick, reach!"

I can't wait to go home.