The beach is one of my happy places. As long as Olivia hasn't watched Shark Week, it's one of her happy places, too. I wasn't sure about Bea, but I suspected she'd love it because, really, the opportunity to get wet and to dig and to run? How could she NOT love that?
As usual, I was right. (Ahem.)
She braved the waves a few times, but mostly preferred stomping in the foamy, swirling edges. She and the surf had a love/hate relationship that week. She loved it as long as it was lapping gently at her feet or knees, but the occasional in-your-face wave was just plain insulting.
(1) As luck would have it, it was Shark Week and Liv happened to turn on the TV one morning before the rest of us were downstairs. PSA: Don't let your kids watch Shark Week while at the beach.
(2) She decided to try bodyboarding. When she hit the wave just right, it was awesome. When she didn't... well, let's say that she learned why rash guards and board shorts exist. She also had a whole lot of unwanted neti-pot-like sinus washes. ;-)
The week was mostly about digging giant holes in the sand (said Ashley, "That's not a hole, that's a hot tub"), handing out endless squeezy yogurt and applesauce, and watching the kids run like maniacs along the water's edge. Bea? She's FAST. So fast that she and Jack would scare the bejeebers out of me because they were so far ahead of the rest of us. I had to shove aside my hatred of running and sprint after them.
We spent the mornings and evenings looking for "seashovels" (sea shells) and I taught the kids the fine art of feeding in-flight seagoggles (sea gulls) popcorn and Cheez-Its. Bea learned how to use the outdoor hose to de-sand herself and I suspect she is lamenting the return to regular, indoor bathing now that we are home.