There is no summer activity I dread more than going to the beach. Before having kids I loved it, it was relaxing… refreshing even… but children have killed the joy of the ocean for me. Anyway, we have been to the beach a few times this summer and I guess it wasn’t so bad.
Last year at the beach my boys had one agenda… take years off my life and give me grey hair by recklessly throwing themselves into the ocean to be pummeled by waves again and again. This year they were a little less crazy and spent most their time digging… I actually got to sit at the beach this year.
This was Tillie’s first time at the beach and she loved it, she’s not quite as wild as the boys and I love it… my blood pressure appreciates the break.
The boys wear their life jackets EVERY WHERE now, really takes a load off my mind. They also make nice handles and it’s a lot easier to wrangle kids when you can just pick them up like suitcases.
Last year the sand made me crazy… it gets everywhere and never leaves. After going to the beach you have sand in your crotch, in your hair, on hands and in your food. I’m hyperventilating a little right now just thinking about it… also kids are just kind of permanently sticky and full of wrinkles where sand can hide and never leave EVER leave. I’m working on it, obviously sand is part of the whole beach package, this year I’m trying to relax and forget about the sand.
Look at them… they don’t even care about the extra crunch on those chips…sand hands gross.
This is the best part of the trip, the peace and quiet of sleeping children. I bet next year the beach will be better, and the year after that even better… eventually the kids will be old enough to load like pack mules with beach toys, towels, and icey cold beverages. The day is coming… I know it… I can’t wait.