Water Baby (I mean Big Boy.)

Our summer classes are officially in full swing.

My little guy loves swimming.

So, I enrolled him in swim classes all summer.

He has always loved the water.

He was the only little boy I know, who looked forward to baths.

{Maybe it's because of all the bubbles, toys, bath crayons, and paint.}

He ran into the ocean, not away, the first time we took him to the beach.

Mind you, he was only ten months old.

This is his third summer taking swim classes.

He was so proud of himself when he was tested into Squids.

It goes Turtles, Whales, Squids, and Fish.

He is so excited to almost be a Fish.

"A fish, mom, is a big deal," he tells me.

I am proud of him too.

I am proud that he is doing what he loves.

That's all I really want for him.

Torpedoes, Watermelon Float, and Back Float are his faves.

Bubbles and Breathing, not so much.

I had to explain to him that Bubbles and Breathing are kind of essential parts to swimming.

He is my Water Big Boy.

He told me I can't call him a water baby anymore.

Because he is not a baby.

Secretly, he'll always be my baby.

And I will always remember him with his goggles wrapped tightly around his head {looking like a mad scientist}, wearing his favorite swim trunks, carrying his Star Wars towel, and walking proudly into swim class.

And I will smile.