Snorkeling

Parenting is *hard.*I still find myself waking up at night to tend to bad dreams, or bug bites, and there’s the constant sibling squabbles, and, with us, homeschooling battles. That’s not to mention the challenges of ushering our kids through their self-identification. I have noticed, several times over the busy few years past, that I haven’t really been focusing on those moments that make parenting awesome. On Lizard Island, we got our first real break of this leg of passage making. We snorkeled, and hiked and spent time together having fun. It really frustrated me that Olive wouldn’t get in the water. We know she can swim, and she is excited about her new wetsuit and mask, but she just wouldn’t take the plunge. Then one afternoon, after getting really upset about it, she and I were playing in the shallows and I started acting like godzilla, stomping and grunting, and she pretended to fight me. After a little of this horsing around, I asked her if she would like me to teach her something. She agreed, and we got her mask. I showed her how to clear her snorkel and how to put it on underwater. She was really good, and I let her know. She was visibly proud, and something changed in her. We spent the next hour or two snorkeling in the shallows and now she asks constantly when we will get another chance. ...

I’m still catching up with my thoughts on Fakarava. The passage was too short to properly transition from the fierce rugged beauty of the Marquesas to the low, almost delicate Tuamotus. Our first night on Fakarava was spent catching up with long lost friends from Estrellita. The next day was spent snorkeling and watching the kids learn how to swim on the beach in front of the White Sands Resort. This place is just too… much. I’ll let the pictures do the rest of the talking and I’ll try to be more articulate in my next post.