We went to the beach for a few days and had a great time. And by a great time, I simply mean that in the end, the effort and pain of packing, sitting in traffic, trying to convince two older kids that they can hold it, unpacking, shush shushing so the baby can nap, hauling 5 beach bags, 3 kids, and a stroller 3 blocks to the beach, constantly finger-swiping mouthfuls of sand, promising to scotch-tape broken shells to avoid meltdowns, refereeing who got which bucket, shovel, toy, etc. even though there were plenty to share, having a side of grit with every bite because little sand covered hands could not keep out of the snacks--then repeating everything a la Groundhog Day until it was time to reverse the order and head home--was worth it.
Because Will got his first beach trip.
And Leo, who would not let his bare feet touch sand a year ago, is evidently over that quirk.
And Max spent hours lost in a sandcastle mission and his first try at boogieboarding.
And the older ones laughed and smiled, screamed and hooted like we've never seen on an assortment of amusement rides.
Oh, and I'm pretty sure that eating french fries and ice cream every single night helped color my memory of the trip a bit, too. Hope you are having a wonderful summer.