Swimming Hole

Montana Home – a summertime haven of floating on the lake (beers arrive by paddle boat), hiking up the big hill, cookin’ up scrumptious meals, golf, daily swim sessions for Kenzie, a little too much red wine (hey, it’s vacation) and making cherished memories with Art & Rita.  This year is Alaire’s first trip and I am giddy for her!

Alaire rocked the 11 hour drive (orginally we planned an overnight stay with the Stuztman’s in Spokane but poor little Jonas woke with a fever) so we powered through.  She slept and baby chattered all along the way until about 30 miles short of Grandpa & Grandma’s where the meltdown began.  Assuming hunger triggered her angry, breath-holding cry, I worked to sooth her with a pacifier.  When we finally arrived, I raced to get her out of her car seat and discovered the REAL reason for her screams…she was sitting in a puddle of poo!  I admit, I would scream too! Rita & Graham pulled the entire car seat apart for a major wash, Art Vail unpacked our luggage heaped car and I changed the messiest diaper yet…at least this gives us good story telling material for the long drive when Alaire is 12, “We remember your first trip to Montana!”  “MOM!!!”

Sunday brought a perfect lake day.  A perfect lake day in Montana means bright blue skies with zero clouds, an occasional gentle breeze making for a smooth, clear lake and water so warm you jump in with no hesitation, surfacing with an AHHH rather than an EEEK.  Guess what?  Time for Alaire’s first swim!  I couldn’t wait to dress her in the little pink/flowery/monkey SPH swim suit, a present for the trip from Grammy & Granda Z, and hit the beach.  Did I mention I was excited for her?  With Alalire wrapped in my arms, I waded up to my waist and slowly lowered her feet in Little Bitterroot Lake – WAAHHHHHH.  “Oh! You’ll get used to it,” I say, “swimming is fun!”  I lowered her in again, up to her little behind and swished her legs around.  This time the dunk brought no cries, but instead she gave me a concerned look. “Yay!  We like swimming.”  Or, at least she’ll tolerate a couple of butt dunks to appease me.

Then we sang:
Swimming, swimming in the swimming hole
When days are hot and days are cold in the swimming hole
Breast stroked, side stroke fancy diving too
Don’t you wish you never had anything else to do

Maybe we can teach Daddy to do the hand motions next time! Graham?

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