Too good not to share

Anonybabe and I spent yesterday with a college friend and his wife's family. (I gotta say, at first glance they appear to be one of the most functional families I think I've been around). We swam in an uncle's above ground pool, and I waited until we got there to unclothe Anonybabe, put on her swim diaper, slather her in sunblock, and get on her swimsuit and hat. Anonybabe hadn't been in a large pool since she was 4 months old (she's 16 months now) and she was mightily unimpressed at the time. She has a kiddie pool that she's merrily splashed away in for the past few weeks, but I was prepared for her to be meek and mild and more than a little timid in the face of a big pool filled with strangers.

She pointed wildly to the pool the whole time I was prepping her for it, and laughed with maniacal delight when we stepped in. She shook her head "no" when we tried putting her in the floaty that our hosts had graciously bought for us, preferring instead to kick around in the water with me. Several times she tried to squirm out of my arms so she could "swim" herself; this from the girl who still won't take an unassisted step. She would "swim" from me to my college buddy (read: be passed off in a rush of water) and bored him to tears when she wanted to pass a little toy basketball back and forth to him. It was heavenly.

To cap off the night, we got home and got into our pj's and I crawled into bed with her, but she didn't seem interested in going to sleep. "That's fine." I told her. "If you want, you can crawl out of bed and see Daddy, but Mama's going to go to sleep. Should we turn on some music?" She gave her enthusiastic assent, and 20 seconds later the Modest Mouse song we've used since she was born to dance her to sleep came on. 10 seconds later I was out, and when Anonyhub crawled into bed, it woke me up enough that I looked over into her crib (that adjoins our bed) and saw her sleeping in it. "Did you put her to sleep?" I asked him. "No, didn't you?" he asked, surprised.

Our baby put herself to sleep, ya'll.
And a choir of angels is singing in my head.

P.S. I realize that this post makes it sound like our whole day - nay, our whole lives - are just perfect and heavenly. Yesterday was a loooooooong day, complete with almost no nappage and train rides that involved attempts to crawl down the aisle and crying and whatnot. Don't get the wrong idea. But the lovely parts deserved reliving and the not so lovely parts are heretofore filed under "I forget."