Embracing the ocean
It is 8:55 a.m. and Laura and Will are still asleep. I slept until after 8:30 and then actually had at least ten minutes in the bathroom alone (oh God, I hear one of them moving—don’t let it be over—I know it can’t last).
We’re spending the weekend at Georgetown with my brother and his wife. (I see the shadow of the blinds from the kids’ room moving in the hall—it must be Laura who’s awake, because Will would’ve already been in here. Maybe she’ll read a while). Yesterday the coast was perfect, breezy and a little overcast, the waves that will put just enough pressure on you that you feel you’re being tossed by the ocean, but will mostly not knock you over, not even too big a crowd for Memorial Day weekend.
Before Shari and I took the kids to the beach, we made our obligatory Wal-Mart run, during which we always worry about how we look trashy because we’re on the way to the beach, but are reassured because plenty of people there look way more trashy than we ever would, during which we stock up on bottled water and Lunchables, during which we always have a list but still forget at least one thing. (Now Shari’s up, and neither of us can believe that Laura and Will still aren’t up. Matt and Chris both got up early, probably to indulge in some manly kayaking or fishing venture, God only knows.)
We spent our perfect beach day next to a tide pool at Huntington Beach, which is our favorite spot because not only is the beach not too crowded, but you can see huge alligators in the marsh side, and there are bathrooms where you can change clothes, and outdoor showers for after the ocean (all features not to be underestimated when you have small children). Not to mention Huntington’s castle Atalaya.
William generally doesn’t embrace the ocean. The beach he can handle, especially if there’s a tidal pool—sand is really not that interesting without water, after all, and it gets pretty hot if you don’t dip a toe in every once in a while. He’s been terrified of waves since his first visit to the beach, and when he was very little would yell even when you carried him if you even stepped in the water. (I hear him turning over in his room next door now!) No amount of playing hide and seek with the gentlest little wave that laps the shore makes that an attractive feature of the ocean for him. He’s always happy to sit in the little pools until they recede, but forget the ocean.
Laura was afraid of the waves herself when she was little, and I think she was around six or seven before she flung herself in the waves, never to return for another round of sand-castle building. Frankly, I am all for having small children who are afraid of the ocean, because the ocean doesn’t mess around. Now that Laura’s playing in the waves with her boogie board, I spend my time trying to watch Will and his sunscreen levels (I forgot the little still partially bald spot on the top of his head yesterday until it was starting to turn a little pink), to play my appointed role in the foot burying game, and watching Laura every second to make sure she hasn’t yet been pulled out into the ocean. Her rule this summer is no deeper than her hips, which is really not very deep, but the waves get so high that I don’t care. Any deeper and my anxiety levels top the charts. And she can still get clobbered by the occasional big wave at that depth, so she thinks it’s a reasonable compromise.
Will had his first real venture into the waves this trip, when he announced he wanted "to go see the big water." Shari and I held his hands and took him down, swinging him over a couple of the (relatively) bigger waves, which he thought was a hoot. Before too long, we were just standing there holding his hands, lifting him over only the really strong waves, while he just laughed and laughed, occasionally adding in a quick "Hold me!" He did great until he got a big mouthful of spray on one wave when we just weren’t quick enough, after which I really did have to hold him. When I got the water brushed off his face and he made sure he was still alive, he laid his head down on my shoulder and said "Mommy, carry me to our chairs so I can lay down and rest, because I’m having a hard time." So back to the chairs and wrapped up in a towel he went.
A while later we pried Laura away from her new beach friend Chelsea—she makes one every trip and thank God she’s not a teenager yet and they’re usually girls—and did our preliminary sand rinsing rituals to get us up to the showers. The showers are pretty difficult too, because that water is cold. All that warm sand and sun and then bam! Freezing water on naked babies. Laura obviously is way too old to take her suit off while she rinses off, but she’s also old enough to shower if you pull the cord for her, she finally gets get top layer off herself pretty well. But the babies we always just strip down right there on the wooden platform, scoop them up and stick them right under the spigot. It’s just a quick once over to get most of the sand off, but the wailing and moaning reaches great levels.
Shari is making cinnamon rolls. I heard Will again. I cannot believe he hasn’t gotten up. Laura must be doing something to him. I guess I’ll go see. The suspense is killing me.
(posted 7:42 p.m. no internet access at our place in Georgetown)
We’re spending the weekend at Georgetown with my brother and his wife. (I see the shadow of the blinds from the kids’ room moving in the hall—it must be Laura who’s awake, because Will would’ve already been in here. Maybe she’ll read a while). Yesterday the coast was perfect, breezy and a little overcast, the waves that will put just enough pressure on you that you feel you’re being tossed by the ocean, but will mostly not knock you over, not even too big a crowd for Memorial Day weekend.
Before Shari and I took the kids to the beach, we made our obligatory Wal-Mart run, during which we always worry about how we look trashy because we’re on the way to the beach, but are reassured because plenty of people there look way more trashy than we ever would, during which we stock up on bottled water and Lunchables, during which we always have a list but still forget at least one thing. (Now Shari’s up, and neither of us can believe that Laura and Will still aren’t up. Matt and Chris both got up early, probably to indulge in some manly kayaking or fishing venture, God only knows.)
We spent our perfect beach day next to a tide pool at Huntington Beach, which is our favorite spot because not only is the beach not too crowded, but you can see huge alligators in the marsh side, and there are bathrooms where you can change clothes, and outdoor showers for after the ocean (all features not to be underestimated when you have small children). Not to mention Huntington’s castle Atalaya.
William generally doesn’t embrace the ocean. The beach he can handle, especially if there’s a tidal pool—sand is really not that interesting without water, after all, and it gets pretty hot if you don’t dip a toe in every once in a while. He’s been terrified of waves since his first visit to the beach, and when he was very little would yell even when you carried him if you even stepped in the water. (I hear him turning over in his room next door now!) No amount of playing hide and seek with the gentlest little wave that laps the shore makes that an attractive feature of the ocean for him. He’s always happy to sit in the little pools until they recede, but forget the ocean.
Laura was afraid of the waves herself when she was little, and I think she was around six or seven before she flung herself in the waves, never to return for another round of sand-castle building. Frankly, I am all for having small children who are afraid of the ocean, because the ocean doesn’t mess around. Now that Laura’s playing in the waves with her boogie board, I spend my time trying to watch Will and his sunscreen levels (I forgot the little still partially bald spot on the top of his head yesterday until it was starting to turn a little pink), to play my appointed role in the foot burying game, and watching Laura every second to make sure she hasn’t yet been pulled out into the ocean. Her rule this summer is no deeper than her hips, which is really not very deep, but the waves get so high that I don’t care. Any deeper and my anxiety levels top the charts. And she can still get clobbered by the occasional big wave at that depth, so she thinks it’s a reasonable compromise.
Will had his first real venture into the waves this trip, when he announced he wanted "to go see the big water." Shari and I held his hands and took him down, swinging him over a couple of the (relatively) bigger waves, which he thought was a hoot. Before too long, we were just standing there holding his hands, lifting him over only the really strong waves, while he just laughed and laughed, occasionally adding in a quick "Hold me!" He did great until he got a big mouthful of spray on one wave when we just weren’t quick enough, after which I really did have to hold him. When I got the water brushed off his face and he made sure he was still alive, he laid his head down on my shoulder and said "Mommy, carry me to our chairs so I can lay down and rest, because I’m having a hard time." So back to the chairs and wrapped up in a towel he went.
A while later we pried Laura away from her new beach friend Chelsea—she makes one every trip and thank God she’s not a teenager yet and they’re usually girls—and did our preliminary sand rinsing rituals to get us up to the showers. The showers are pretty difficult too, because that water is cold. All that warm sand and sun and then bam! Freezing water on naked babies. Laura obviously is way too old to take her suit off while she rinses off, but she’s also old enough to shower if you pull the cord for her, she finally gets get top layer off herself pretty well. But the babies we always just strip down right there on the wooden platform, scoop them up and stick them right under the spigot. It’s just a quick once over to get most of the sand off, but the wailing and moaning reaches great levels.
Shari is making cinnamon rolls. I heard Will again. I cannot believe he hasn’t gotten up. Laura must be doing something to him. I guess I’ll go see. The suspense is killing me.
(posted 7:42 p.m. no internet access at our place in Georgetown)
posted by Lisa at 5/29/2005 08:27:00 AM
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