To begin with, I'd like to apologize to several of my friends. They were unfortunately on the receiving end of a few of my grumblings. These grumbles occurred prior to a family vacation, about which I was very apprehensive. The next time I start complaining, please remind me that after the initial stress of planning and preparing, I will have a marvelous time. Or, just redirect me by bringing up a fabulous recipe you invented on the spot involving Doritos and tomatoes.
I was hesitant about this trip because it was going to involve camping and sand in my underwear. Had we planned a trip to the beach, and were staying in a hotel, I would have been singing the sweet song of happiness, rather than the doom and gloom of misery. My largest fear was that my kids would tire of the beach after the first day. I had a friend send me a long list of California activities in case we found ourselves with bored children and nothing to do. To my surprise my children wanted nothing more than to play on the beach. This was fantastic because all I wanted to do was sit on the beach and watch my children play. All was swell and enjoyable. Even the homeless lady who shared our campsite was somewhat comical. She sat in her tiny tent, listened to our conversations, and enjoyed bringing up tidbits from previous exchanges Clint and I had made to each other. In private. She called the kids and us by our first names, without being formally introduced. She was also very knowledgeable on how to become a state of California resident, raccoons, and resisting arrest. What I'm supposed to do with that 30 minute long awkward conversation, I'm not sure, but maybe someday it'll come in handy. She was loony, but sweet.
During the short 5 day stay, my children joyfully ran away from the waves,
and I did this.
While my child and a friend steadied each other at the onset of a wave,
I reflected on my habit of buttering both sides of my toast, wondering why it hasn't caught on.
While the children did the obligatory 'stay in one spot and let your feet sink into the sand as the wave recedes',
I perfected the Tai Chi art of sitting-stork-wears-sunglasses-with-folded-arms-and-crossed-legs.
While the children bravely let the chilly, icy waves splash on their bare, 1% fat content bodies,
I wondered how much money I would need to be offered before I would drink out of a toilet.
Holes were dug,
in which children were placed,
in which children screamed.
Sand castles were abandoned.
"The Duke" was amazingly good at surfing,
as well as amazingly good at aquatic ballet.
To change the balance towards the positive, another Duke surf pic must be displayed.
Clint also tried his hand at surfing.
Just kidding; he wishes he had a red board.
He was much better at doing this,
while I was perfecting this (again),
and the child did this.
A highlight of the vacation was the tide pools. Many an hour of gleeful screaming was spent searching for crabs, snails, sea anemones, and dodging gull poo.