Last weekend we took the first swim of the new year. The two older boys, I think, can officially swim. They're not strong swimmers, i.e. I wouldn't totally trust them in the deep end, but I feel comfortable letting them play in the pool with little supervision. And that's a major step considering kids around water scare the crap out of me.
A couple weeks ago we played Monopoly for the first time. By the official rules. Did you know you don't get any money for landing on Free Parking? And if you roll more than three consecutive doubles, you go to jail. Oh, and if someone lands on a property and they don't want to buy it, then there's an auction for that property... and the person who didn't want to initially buy it can be in the auction. Yeah, the real rules. I don't remember ever playing like this so it's like a brand new game for all of us.
This is a picture of Andrew crying for the second time that morning. The first time was my fault. During his soccer game, Andrew looked spaced out. Balls would easily get past him. The opponents would out hussle him. He was constantly looking around. Very distracted. Then I yelled, "Andrew! Come on! Wake up!". And when he was subbed out, that's when he broke down and cried. "I don't want to play soccer anymore! I'm not good enough! Papa will yell at me!" Damn. I felt like total shit. #1 asshole dad right here. But I know he could play better. Just that day, he was moving half speed. Slow motion.