It was a ten hour drive to the beach. A Ten.Hour.Drive.
That was sucky.
And as we entered the Outer Banks, mother nature blessed us with a downpour. Wind. Torrential rains.
So to recap: trapped in car for ten hours; rain.
Then we arrived at the house. We let the kids run around for an hour and then tucked them snuggly in their beds. Luckily, we brought the pack-n-play for Ella, because the crib that was supplied was not assembled. Isn’t that useful? So I layed Ella in the pack-n-play, and closed the door. Fifteen seconds later I could hear her screaming at the door. Because she just climbed right on out of that pack-n-play. The pack-n-play was also, clearly, very useful.
So she slept in the bed with me that night. And to be honest, I’m rather thankful for that crib being disassembled that night. Sleeping with that little redheaded cherub by my side was not really restful. But lying there watching her sleep and feeling her curled up next to me was nothing short of wonderful.
I awoke to the sound of that little girl, two inches from my face, saying “Mommy. Hi.” She makes my heart come all undone…
Then The Man put the crib together.
And it rained some more. And was cloudy.
But on the third day, the clouds parted and the sun fell on our faces and warmed the sand. We did very little but play all day. And eat ice cream. All week.
(Look at his round belly…he’s just all sorts of cute…)
This week was sun-bleached hair, freckles, pink shoulders and pink cheeks.
And sandy little feet.
And building sandcastles. (Which William takes very.very.seriously. Don’t mess with his castles).
We collected shells. We chased sandpipers.
We played in the surf.
(There may have been a couple tiny little tantrums. Or something. But whatever.)
Four little children, drawn to the swirls of foamy surf. Squealing with delight and fear and anticipation of the sea, crashing on their little feet.
This past week at the shore reminded me what childhood should consist of…sunshine, sandcastles, ice cream, laughter.
It was lovely.