Sunday, May 30, 2010

not everyone loves the beach

I love the beach.
Husband loves the beach.
Daughter loves the beach.

Son thinks the beach is trying to kill him.

We were in Mobile Friday and at about 6:00pm we decided we should go to the beach (We didn't actually leave Mobile until almost 7). (In the likely event that we decided to do this, I packed the kids' suits and towels) It only takes about 45 minutes to an hour (depending on ridiculous traffic) to get from Mobile to Gulf Shores. We were on our way.

As soon as we told Daughter, she starts going on and on about sand castles and building them "up, up, up, up and up." To make this precious child's dream of sand sky scrapers come true, we needed to stop by Wal-Mart. (and we figured at least one of us should have a swimsuit on too. Husband won, and got a swimsuit)

We got on the beach at 8.

She had the time of her life. running, dancing, building sand castles, letting the waves touch her toes and then running away from them. squealing and laughing.

Son, not so much.

sifting sand.

the surf. I only got in to about my knees, but it was fabulous.

Son got in to his knees too and he thought the water was actually fire trying to kill him. Even little Manny couldn't help him. Bless his heart.

Son is not shrieking here, but he's certainly not happy.

Daughter built sand castles.

and built.

Husband enjoyed the water.

These are Son's footprints. He walked around a little on his own, but mostly he just wanted to be held and protected from the beach that was trying to kill him.

Daughter enlisted Husband's help in the sand castle building.

Son finally started believing us when we kept telling him that he was ok and the beach was fun. Or at least he stopped believing that the beach was trying to kill him.

Daughter danced. There was a band playing in the bar next to the public beach and Daughter loved it.

More dancing. This is when we made it back up to the pier.
We lasted a little longer than an hour. (Husband and I wanted to just sleep on the beach). Daughter was horribly upset that she couldn't stay and dance and run in the sand. Luckily, she believed us when we kept reassuring her that we'd come back to the beach 'later.' Son was so happy/relieved to be in a clean diaper and onesie, he was asleep before we passed Lambert's.

In Son's defense: it was dark and his bedtime. (sure, he slept for 6 hours in the car, but his 'normal' bedtime is 8) I think his next beach trip will be better.

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