We moved from a high desert valley in Colorado, to the Pacific Northwest when the Extroverted Feeler was seven.

We arrived on New Year's Eve, the night before Y2K, when all the computers in the world might or might not go belly up. They didn't, so we moved on.

My children had not experienced puddles, because they are rare in that part of Colorado. I bought them both rubber boots with thick fleece liners and took them down to the long curving beach, to stomp puddles. The IT was only two and cautious about new things including waves. The Extroverted Feeler stomped puddles and played along the waves. The waves were little and rolled over his boots. Then he waded in up to his knees and then thighs. The water poured nicely down into the new boots and thick fleece liners while I yelped. He was instructed NOT to go deeper than his thighs. Dumb mom.

I have photos of the Extroverted Feeler's first bath. He is screaming bloody murder because he is certain that he's going to be drowned. He was about 3 weeks old and had only had sponge baths before that. After that he fell in love with the water and delighted in long baths, kicking for the joy of it.

I went with a neighbor, who had a son the same age, camping. Both boys were about 8. Car camping, on Tongue Point, a little bluff on the Olympic Peninsula. We decided to go down to the beach.

I prepared. I got a daypack and loaded up a towel and a complete change of clothes for the Extroverted Feeler. The other parent watched me. He did not say "You are a crazy overprotective mother", but the vibe was in the air. He prepared by standing up. We took the kids down the bluff to the beach and they ran and shouted on the beach. The Introverted Thinker was still being cautious about waves and had noted that the water is cold. The other parent's son got wet up to his knees, with his shoes carefully off.

After a while the Extroverted Feeler was lying down on the beach, fully clothed, with the waves washing over him. I let him for a while. Even the top of his head was soaked. The water of Puget Sound is usually around 55 degrees and it was November. The Extroverted Feeler's lips turned blue and his teeth were chattering. "Ok, time to change," I said, and pulled out the towel and the clothes and a bag for the wet ones.

The other parent came over. His son was still wet to the knees only. "I kind of thought you were overreacting a bit," he said. "I guess not."

"Nope." I said. "This is pretty routine." The Extroverted Feeler now had lips that had faint color, and he was eyeing the water again. "Ok," I said, "Time to go. You can come down again later." And we all trailed back to camp.

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