As the Sun Sets
Yesterday afternoon, upon my return from Target (my "break" for the week, a shopping trip for household necessities while Babygirl naps . . . yeah, now I feel refreshed and ready for another week) I realized I had a long four hours facing me with four children alone at home again. Still. Always. My husband had to go back to work. I decided that we'd go to the beach and enjoy the last sunlight of the day. I gathered water bottles and sand toys and jackets (because truly you never know around here) and off we went. First to McDonald's, then to the beach.
Babygirl chanted the whole way there. "Beach! Beach! Beach-beach-beach!" She couldn't remember being at the beach before, even though she has been. A few weeks or months (?) ago we went to the beach and she freaked out when I put her down on the sand. She hated the sensation of sand under her feet. Last summer, she hated the beach because the swings terrified her (me holding her while pushing her brother, specifically) and the train's whistle scared her.
This time, she loved the beach. She loved the grassy expanses, she loved the swing, she loved the big slide, and she loved the sand. She did not, however, like the waves which kept moving up to "get" her when she wanted to put her toes in the sand.
YoungestBoy and Babygirl are getting wetter and muddier than I anticipated. They always do and somehow, it still always surprises me.
The twins worked together frantically building a sand wall to keep back the tide. Only, just as they finished patting the sand, I said, "Hey, you know what? I think the tide is going out!" The last time they did this, the tide was coming in and they dug and patted sand and barked instructions to each other as if the lives of dozens of helpless children depended on their efforts . . . and then the drama as the waves crashed through their sand wall! Thrills! Chills! Yesterday's activity dwindled to a sudden stillness when they realized the water was going and not coming.
So, we went home, sandy, tired, and wet. This, I hope, is what they remember of childhood.
Babygirl chanted the whole way there. "Beach! Beach! Beach-beach-beach!" She couldn't remember being at the beach before, even though she has been. A few weeks or months (?) ago we went to the beach and she freaked out when I put her down on the sand. She hated the sensation of sand under her feet. Last summer, she hated the beach because the swings terrified her (me holding her while pushing her brother, specifically) and the train's whistle scared her.
This time, she loved the beach. She loved the grassy expanses, she loved the swing, she loved the big slide, and she loved the sand. She did not, however, like the waves which kept moving up to "get" her when she wanted to put her toes in the sand.
YoungestBoy and Babygirl are getting wetter and muddier than I anticipated. They always do and somehow, it still always surprises me.
The twins worked together frantically building a sand wall to keep back the tide. Only, just as they finished patting the sand, I said, "Hey, you know what? I think the tide is going out!" The last time they did this, the tide was coming in and they dug and patted sand and barked instructions to each other as if the lives of dozens of helpless children depended on their efforts . . . and then the drama as the waves crashed through their sand wall! Thrills! Chills! Yesterday's activity dwindled to a sudden stillness when they realized the water was going and not coming.
So, we went home, sandy, tired, and wet. This, I hope, is what they remember of childhood.
posted by Melodee at Monday, May 03, 2004
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