A moment of silence for the slow and (quite pain-free actually) cruel death of my blog.

That's about the only moment EVER that anyone will see all 3 kids with their mouths closed. Goonies, I mean Ultimate Cake Off must have been on.

Well, I have more important things to say, so [sing it] "Overture, curtain lights! This is it. The night of nights. And oh what heights we'll hiiit... On with the show this is it!"

When I was little, I hated the water. Swimming lessons were not helpful. Stick my head underwater? Are you kidding? Jump off the diving board into the deep shark infested end and yeah right, sure you'll catch me. I don't think so.

So when my kids hesitate around water, I don't really push too much. Unfortunately they've inherited my fear of all those unknown critters that lurk in the water (especially lake water) and they have not yet shown signs of their daddy's ease in the marine world. And he used to be one of those awful teenage swim instructors that coaxed little ones to their certain death by claiming to "catch" them after they jumped. We all know they never catch you. It's part of the "I'll just throw you in the water and THEN you'll HAVE to swim techniques. I'm not a fool. I never bought it and now my kids don't either.

This concerns me. The youngest one was the first to actually get in the eel-infested water and the first to show no hesitation about getting on one of those aqua motorcycle thingies.

There's my girl. Completely dry and very aware that the creature from the black lagoon is alive and well.

What? Now who can I count on to keep me company far far away from that awful seaweed which we all know is actually the evil spawn of the Loch Ness Monster trying to snatch ignorant yet arrogant little swimmers to the depths of the bottomless lake?

He's the man.