Hey you guys.
Jack can swim.
Like, he goes underwater and swims to the steps. He can dive down and grab toys. He uses his arms and legs in appropriate motions to move through the water.
He's pretty psyched about it.
We're pretty psyched about it, too.
You can't NOT swim when you grow up in Texas. It's hotter than hell. Until you are old enough to drink frozen margaritas, swimming is pretty much the best way to cool off. (Even when you're an adult, swimming *while* drinking a margarita is pretty great.)
On a related note, Jack is now seriously grown up. He's 4 and a half. He does very four and a half year old things like: strolling through the kitchen to the pantry and grabbing a snack. Or, opening the fridge, grabbing two carrots, making the dogs sit, and rewarding them with the carrots as a treat. (Our dogs love carrots.)
Also, his current career aspirations are to "feed Sawyer from a bottle" and "go swimming."
I don't blame him one bit.
Hope you stroll somewhere for a snack today.
Talk soon,
Heather
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Ah. Good old grown up little boy Jack. I'd like to hang out with him again.
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