Can you believe that on the very last day of August, we went to the beach for the first time this summer! Oh summer, how did you go so fast? I'm such a homebody, and I find that packing up the kids and remembering all the stuff they need and might need and then driving for half an hour is not my idea of a good time. But when I realized yesterday that August was nearly done I decided that we'd get to the beach at least once, no matter what. So we did.
And boy, was it ever worth it! Look at those baby toes, all wet and gravel-y.
It was the New Baby's first time at the beach ever, and my Mom wasted no time in getting him down to the waters edge and dipping his feet in. He did not seem entirely impressed with the whole idea at first, and there were many grimaces and much hand waving. The water was on the cool side.
But then he changed his mind and decided that this beach place had a lot to offer.
Sand, water, blankets, birds, avocados, Grangran; so many of his favourite things were there.
There was also some swinging through the air, which is a favourite game. I know he doesn't exactly look thrilled in this picture, but really, he was just between smiles. The rest of the time there was lots of laughing and happy baby trills. I've got to tell you, I LOVE the babbling he does these days. It sounds like something between a small tropical bird and R2D2. So sweet.
Though as much as the New Baby enjoyed the beach, the Little Dude relished it even more. He knows this beach after all, and was happy to see the well remembered view, fountain, and awesome play equipment. (Pirate ship! Little hand operated diggers! Giant round swings! Heaven) And his lovely cousin was along too. She of the constant attentiveness, and endless patience. Oh what a wonderful playmate she is for him. And big as he is, (and slim as she is), she still willingly hoists his three-year-old self up onto her hip whenever he needs a leg up.
But no matter all the wonderful diversions of the playground, there is still one thing that a beach has that can't be matched for fun and excitement...
Oh the glee on this little boys face as he runs after them. And they are so nervy and tame and fat from eating french fries and discarded ice cream cones that they complacently waddle ahead of him, not quite flying away, in the most enticing fashion.
But even with his cousin's help they still managed to elude him. No matter, the fun is in the chasing, not the catching.
After wading and digging and running and playing we had a picnic dinner at the end of the day. And while the grown ups were packing up (and hosing down the messy baby) the Little Dude and his cousin went down to the water's edge to wash their hands or rinse their feet or something. And at that moment, L.D. decided it was finally time to actually swim.
He got his shirt off, and in the last little bit of late afternoon sunlight, gave himself a thorough dunking. (Don't worry, Grangran was close at hand)
And the little boy who was somewhat reluctant to get into the water for his pool side swimming lessons transformed into a crazy fish boy right before our eyes.
He splashed, and thrashed about, and did everything but actually swim! It was hilarious. Maybe its the energy burst he often gets at the end of the day, or maybe just the fact that he could always feel the bottom of the lake, and so wasn't put off by that un-grounded feeling of the swimming pool, but this kid just couldn't get enough of being in the water. We finally had to practically drag him, shivering and blue lipped out of the water. "Aren't you cold?" I asked him. "It's fresh!", he said, a perfect imitation of his cold-water loving Grandpapa. Hubs finally slung him up over his shoulder and carried him off the beach so that we could get him toweled off and into some dry clothes.