Not Mark Spitz

It’s been a couple of months since the last post, which reported the results of Lily’s first doctors appointment. Since then, our news cup doth runneth over (uh, -eth) so let us jump right in. We will handle the other kids in subsequent unread posts.

Starting with the oldest, Logan has been busy on our neighborhood (Thornhill) swim team. He is on the part of the team officially known as “The Shrimps” and on the part of the Shrimps unofficially known as “dead wood’. OK, maybe that’s a bit harsh, but Logan is not the fastest swimmer. He has reached that Lucas-esque status in the league where everyone cheers for him like he is about to win gold. It is cute and great and I have been banned from saying anything other than “Good job, buddy” when I really want to say “Son, please do not stop in the middle of the race to ask me if you can get some Fun Dip out of the vending machine.” This is how a typical race goes:

  1. The horn sounds indicating the beginning of the race.
  2. Logan “dives in”, which means he jumps in feet first, but with his arms forming a “V” straight out in front of him and only the very tips of his fingers pointing at the water.
  3. Logan comes up out of the water rather surprised, as if he was dropped in the pool while sleeping.
  4. Logan does two or three overhand strokes, just enough to get his father’s hopes up that he will be competitive in this race.
  5. Logan stops the overhand and commences some interpretive dance version of the breast stroke. It’s like the regular breast stroke, except much slower and awkward, like he is trying to fight off the water.
  6. About half way down the pool (after at least 2 of the other swimmers have finished) Logan stops, realizes that everyone is SCREAMING for him and gets a smile that resembles caricatures of Jimmy Carter.
  7. After a undetermined time interval, Logan seems to remember that he is in the middle of a swimming race, and begins the Breast Stroke as Performed by a Marionette once again..
  8. About 3/4 of the way done now, all the other racers have finished, exited the pool, dried off, and are now cheering for Logan.
  9. Right before the wall, with the cheering at fever pitch, Logan seems to stop and take it all in. This causes the crowd to, in unison, to scream “TOUCH THE WALL”!
  10. Logan touches the wall. A huge sigh of relief passes through the crowd. Logan gets out and seriously asks if he won. His mother has to answer that question.

I am constantly assured that Logan’s current swimming ability is “very typical” of first year Shrimps, which only causes me to try and convince myself that the other first year Shrimps are all prodigies. Either way, Logan is having a BALL and doesn’t seem to care that all his ribbons are white “I Did My Best” ones. As long as he is having fun, that is what matters. His mother firmly believes that and his father does a commendable job faking it.

Since we are spending most of our summer around the pool, Logan’s latest obsession is getting something out of the vending machine. He will stand next to it, watching other (and MUCH more fortunate) kids get Honey Buns, YoGos, and whatever other God-forsaken garbage they offer. He is allowed to get something on occasion, which we have taken to calling his “fix”. We have considered taking him to the Dolly Madison Clinic for a rehab-stint, so we’ll keep you posted. I find myself pining for air-conditioner or USA related quirks.

Anyway, Logan is having a great summer. The pictures with this post should be proof enough.