I realized today, while cooling off at the pool, exactly why I want to take a million pictures of the children jumping into the pool.
Ahem. Yes, I want to take a million pictures of everyday. I realize this. But I'm irresistibly drawn to the spectacle of Peter and Lucy (and now Thomas, too) tossing themselves with abandon into the pool, splashing down into the water, and coming up with a giant smile on their faces.
Partly, it's to marvel at how far they've come in just a few weeks. If I'd told Peter a month ago he'd be fearlessly running and jumping into the pool, he'd not have believed me. Now he's telling me that he wants to jump from the diving board, and I know it's true. (Also, not allowed.)
(new trick: backward jumping - it drives Kevin insane)
Partly, it's to capture the total joy and self-satisfaction on their faces when they emerge from the water. They know they're being brave and fearless and, more importantly, they know the risks are paying off.
And partly it's to capture our response - Kevin and mine - in watching these people who were so very tiny do things that are so very big. They do grow up before your eyes.
(Except I'm making a rule, OK? This is it. No more growing up. You're far too old already. Four? Three? Gah! Where the the babies go?)
No matter how many photos I take, I'll never be able to take the one I want - the one that shows just how big they are, but still so small; and how proud we are of them, but also a little nervous; and how much fun it is to toss yourself into the water, over and over. I'm not a jumper at all, but they're enthusiasm is infectious and I thought about it today.
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