I failed completely as a mother and forgot to bring my camera. It was the first time I have ever had to get the girls to a class or lesson on time by myself in the morning, and I was a bit stressed. I don't know how I'm going to manage when Ayla starts preschool on WEDNESDAY AUGUST 19.
I thought the girls would splash in the kiddy pool and I would flip through a magazine in the shade, but alas. Even the best laid plans, and all that.
Ayla tells her teacher, Miss Taylor, that her name is Eva.
Indy grins, slaps her chest, and says (loudly) "My name Indy Gosa!!"
Indy dives into the kiddy pool and splashes around and generally ignores the teacher, who later says "Who can get their whole head wet like Indy?". I can tell Miss Taylor likes Indy because even though she's not exactly listening, the kid is cute.
Ayla was the first kid to be the leader in follow the leader, alligator walk style.
Then it was time for the big pool.
In a replay of an event that occurred in this family some 20 years ago, Heather playing the role of Indy and myself playing the role of my own mother, Indy jumps into the pool when Miss Taylor isn't looking and sort of propels herself forward but mostly sinks til all but the crown of her head is underwater.
I go running toward the class, shouting "She's! She's!"
Because clearly, "She's!" is the international word for 'my child can't swim but she thinks she can and now she's sort of failing could you please help her out with that?'.
Miss Taylor spots Indy, pulls her up, says she's sorry, and perches all the kids on the ledge for a SECOND lecture about how they must hold on to the wall when she's not holding them herself.
Indy jumps out of the pool and comes running at me--in the middle of class--and Miss Taylor says to me, "Sorry!", and then to Indy, "Walk! Don't run!"
I put Indy back in the pool.
Children kicking.
Indy breaks free again.
I put her back. Again.
Whilst I am putting her back, some other mom steals my chair.
Ayla volunteers to go out first on the paddleboard and does some first class kicking while Miss Taylor wields her around the pool and I watch Indy for another solo attempt.
Luckily, no more solo attempts were made.
Ayla has been trying to teach Indy to say her name. Indy's first word, at about 9.5 months, was "Awa". In the morning, and after nap, Indy would stand in her crib and call "Awa! Awa!". Which meant, of course, Ayla. At some point she stopped saying Awa and moved on to Ai-ya.
They go like this:
"Indy. Say 'ay'"
"Ay."
"Now say, 'lah'"
"Lah!"
"Now say, Ayla!"
"Say four. Saaay fooour."
"Indy. INDY! Say Ay-luh. Ayla! Say Ay."
"Ay."
"Say luh!"
"Aiya say four. Say fooouuur."
Ayla sighs. "Just forget it."
Ayla gets frustrated but I think it's karma for the idea that pops into her head when she sees this picture at Blockbuster:
She smiles and slyly says, "I want that picture to go in Indy's room."
(P.S We are on the BIG TIME LOOKOUT for a 16 inch girls bike for Ayla. The two my mom has kindly bought her in the past are too small for her now. If you see a good deal while out garage-saling, please call me. Loves.)
