Water Loving Genes

When I was a young kid, I was OBSESSED with the water. I mean, obsessed. Like, I wanted to be in the water so badly that my mom gave up trying to control this urge, and let me plunge fully into any body of water over 2 inches deep…in my dresses. Because I was also a super girly tomboy who climbed trees and wore dresses EVERY DAY until I was in 4th grade. 

One of my favorite memories was going to a park with some friends, and normally this wading pool (shaped like an Orca) was dried up (because it wasn’t summertime), but this one time it was FULL OF WATER and I went full on swimming, in a pale yellow dress with puffy sleeves. Pretty sure parenting me was like trying to  stop a rushing river. 

At any rate, I’ve noticed a similar trend with Potamus. He shouts “water!” whenever he sees a body of water, and the other day I had to drag him away from running headlong into Lake Washington. And we had plans that didn’t involve soggy clothes, so I had to say ‘no,’ which resulted in a meltdown of epic proportions. 

It makes me wonder if a preference for swimming, or being around water, is a genetic preference, or just a being-a-kid thing. Because he’s seriously obsessed. Except with showers. He’s not a fan of showers. 

Cabin Camping on Cama Beach!


Potamus, Boof and I met up with my parents on Camano Island at the lovely Cama Beach State Park. We stayed in their pet-friendly cabins, which were RIGHT on the water! While the shores of Puget Sound can’t really compare to the majestic Oregon Coast, in terms of magnitude of waves and loveliness of sand, it was really nice to be within a stone’s throw of the water! While our cabins were in the 2nd row, we could still see (and hear!) the water from our front porch!

Our days were spent swimming, drinking beer, watching Potamus climb driftwood and collect rocks/shells. He slept great the first night and crappy the second, but who said vacations were supposed to be relaxing for parents, anyway? The weather was amazing, and it was lovely to beat the heat of Seattle! Since it’s only 1 hour and 30 minutes from Seattle, I think the consensus was that this place will be an annual trip, while we’ll save the big years for the Oregon Coast extravaganza! So, here you go, a few pics from the trip:


the waves are smaller and the beach is rockier, but he is drawn to the water nonetheless!



people can rent sailboats (and kayaks and rowboats) right there at the Center for Wooden Boats right on the beach!




cabins, taken from the beach



swimmin’ lessons!



driftwood fort with grammy and grampy



spatulas, good for making dinner…or scooping sand (er, rocks)



the shoreline was gorgeous



shoulder rides with daddio



taxidermy freaks me out



building a little wooden sailboat at the Center for Wooden Boats children’s area!



wagon rides



always covered in marinara



this’ll probably end up as our Christmas card


Water Babies

As a kid, I was obsessed with the water. Even the word obsessed doesn’t quite do it justice. I mean, OBSESSED. Like, I would pitch a fit if we came anywhere near anything that looked like I could splash around or possibly swim in…penny fountains in the mall, drying up wading pools full of half decaying leaves come September, rushing glacial rivers…anything. For the most part (aside from the rushing glacial rivers), my mom (the primary caregiver during such outings as to the mall and playgrounds with wading pools) indulged in my obsession. Not sure how she mustered up the patience to deal with a kid so obsessed with the water…especially since I was also obsessed with wearing dresses. Well, not to the level of obsession as I was the water, but a close second. So there I would be, in a muddy wading pool, splashing around with my dress billowing up around my shoulders. Sigh.

Truthfully, I blame my dad.

He had me in the water, swim lessons since I was Potamus’s age. He’d take me down to the athletic club before work and we’d swim around together before he’d head off to do Dad-Things and I went back home to spend time with mom. As I got older, I was mostly-fearless in the water (something I can’t say for the rest of my life), and would hurl my 18 month old body off the side of the pool and into my dad’s arms. I’d tiptoe out to the diving board’s edge and launch myself off, trusting that my dad would catch me. He always did.

In camping lakes there were water-wings and saltwater sandals and plenty of pictures of my dad holding my arms and twirling me around or trying to teach me the crawl. While we always had “offical’ swim leassons and eventually joined swim team, these moments with my dad are the ones I remember the best. His healthy attitude and love for the water got passed down to me. Mostly mom had to deal with it, though, as she disliked the water from a near-drowning incident as a child, but shlepped us to-and-fro to parks with wading pools, and spent countless hours sitting by the club pool in the summer as we had swim team and then relaxed with 6 hours of playing mermaids in the pool afterward.

So, when Potamus was born, I just KNEW I wanted to at least give him the option of having a good relationship with water. Last weekend at the river was a great introduction to the wild wild world of water. So this weekend, I packed Potamus up sans Boof, and headed over the pass to spend the weekend with my parents. Potamus LOVED the pool, and it was very fun to see my dad get the opportunity to begin teaching him how to love water, just like he taught me.