And so it begins.
The long, bright days filled with popsicles and playgrounds, swimsuits and sleepovers, cookouts and camp-outs. Yeah, no, we only do about 1/3 of those things. And I'm actually terrible at math so that figure is probably generous. Or stingy. Whichever.
Summertime is, of course, when the majority of people pack up the ol' Subaru and head to the shore for an eight hour day of family fun memory making. I imagine these people tossing a beach ball or frisbee, eating watermelon wedges, gleefully splashing each other in the waves and laughing the day away. They might stop for ice cream or a quick dinner at the clam shack on the ride home and after showers they pile into a big bed for a movie night complete with popcorn and junior mints. Sounds dreamy.
We do it slightly different over here. First off, if I am even toying with the idea of a beach day I keep that thought to myself for at least three days. That way I can spend a very fair chunk of my time agonizing over every single detail of how this plan could all go down. Do the girls' bathing suits fit properly? Do we need coverups? Does anyone even wear coverups anymore? Can Daisy handle flip flops in the sand? Maybe she should wear water shoes. Yeah, idiot, that's what you bought them for, isn't it? Should we bring the big cooler? I don't even know where their sand toys are. Time to start stalking the beach forecast and tide chart and what about the seaweed factor. Do the beaches have those little bugs like last year? Vomit. What will we bring to eat? Scarlett only eats PB&J so that's just gonna attract all the bees. We need a new umbrella. Am I wearing a bathing suit this year or should I go with my Dickie's jumpsuit?
And so on.
This goes on pretty much right up until we've got the car packed. The girls, just giddy with excitement, have forgotten how LONG they perceive the ride to be. We will all be reminded of that in a short while. Someone will have to pee on the ride down. I will, for sure due to the previously guzzled six cups of coffee, but I'll keep it to myself until we get there. The bathroom is always a fun treat. Daisy touches every single disgusting surface possible and somehow always manages to put her bare ass on each restroom floor that we encounter. Scarlett remains horrified by hand driers so she just bolts the second she shuts the faucet - regardless of who is indisposed. I'm still slightly sketched out by the giant hole toilet but that's a story for another day.
We manage to make our way to the sand - Gregg doing the majority of the lugging but my shoulders are heavy with bags. I always picture John Candy in Summer Rental as we are navigating that beach. Clumsily maneuvering our way around colored sheets and sandcastles. No matter how early we leave the house we are always disappointed by the number of beachgoers who've scored the best spots. Because I've done my homework I know what that tide is up to so we choose an appropriate place to plop. Umbrella in. Blankets down. Chairs positioned. We did it!
Now, the amazingly peaceful and glorious beach days of my youth are so far in that rearview mirror I can hardly smell the Coppertone anymore. When you bring two little girls to the beach you're not sitting in that little sand chair. Not for ten seconds. Surprisingly BOTH girls love to be in the water. They really don't agree on anything so this is pretty amazing. Neither know how to swim so they require an adult at all times. I do remember that as a kid, you couldn't get me out of that water. The "wait thirty minutes after you eat" rule was such torture. I would swim and flip and play in those waves for hours at a time. LOVED the ocean. Now? I'd rather not go thigh deep. The idea of creatures in the sand, pinching and squirming. Nasty seaweed. The possibility of those gross bugs that cling to your skin. And now that we know that the shark population is growing in these parts (YAY!) I'll just enjoy those headlines from my living room chair. I love me a shark but would lose my shit if I saw a fin within a mile of my sea-covered shins. Clutching the hand of a daughter I wade uncomfortably trying not to let on that I'd rather be back at the blanket. Thank God they're still small so we can't go any deeper. The squeals of joy from the girls are hands down the best part of the day. Well, that and the grapes. I'm always so glad I remember to bring grapes. We let the girls splash and play for a bit then try to coax them into making sandcastles so we could possibly sit for a few minutes. That only lasts a minute or two before they realized they've been duped and the water is where its at. Drat.
We spend a few hours that way. Splashing, snacking, swatting horseflies, hitting the restroom etc. Daisy is usually the one to crack first. She starts to let us know in some super fun ways that she is done for the day and we start the joyous task of packing it alllll back up. Why do we even take sand toys? They literally only used one bucket and one cup. Remember this for next year. The chairs are harder to close up, the umbrella doesn't fit back into the cart, wet towels are heavier, sand has grown hotter. The walk back to the car is a real blast. My feet are burning!!! How far is the car?? This is a long walk! Can we get Brickley's? Pleeeeeeease? I'm so hungryyyyyy. Repeated by the two little ones about seventy thousand times. We find the car, shake out our blankets and do our best to dust off the kids before locking and loading them. We ultimately drive to the Brickley's lot which we had planned to do all along but were soured on the idea after all of the "requests." The post ice-cream ride is far worse. Both girls reeeeeeally need a nap but refuse to close an eye. How come the sun is always on MY side??? I'm hottttttttt. I don't want to take a shower. Can we get Del's? Why are we stopped?? What are we having for dinner?
Ahhhh. Home at last. Time to rela... wait, nope. Not yet! Let's first unpack alllll of the sand covered crap, let's clean out the cooler and toss that moist, disgusting trash, let's bathe the two crankiest children on the planet, let's start a load of laundry, let's finally get ourselves cleaned up. NOW it's time to rela... "I'm HUNGRY!!!!!!"
Son of a.
That's the 'beach day' we've had in past years. There was no frisbee tossing. Do people even do that anymore? Or is that from some random '80s Tom Cruise movie? There was no watermelon wedge. There certainly wasn't a movie night because our kids don't like to watch movies and because bedtime could not have come any sooner. Hey, we tried. We got the ice cream and we had some gleeful splashing. I'm not about to do the fractions on that but I guess it was pretty decent after all. Any day now the pleas for a beach day will ring throughout the house. I should probably dust off that bucket and cup.
xo
