A good example of our crazy cold wet summer ... yesterday was our FIRST beach outing. And also a good example of the weirdness of three-year-olds. They always do the exact opposite of what you expect. So I guess I should expect it by now, huh?
Last time we were at the beach was a random day in April or so. The Atlantic Ocean in New Jersey that time of year is FREEZING. Yet Kiddle eventually made his way down to the water and would not come out. Seriously. He was blue and shivering, but he kept getting further and further in. Eventually we had to drag him away from the beach, with him screaming, "I GO WATER! I GO WATER! I GO WATER!" all the way to the car and all the way home.
So I was thrilled to finally make it to the beach yesterday, thinking that Kiddle would absolutely LOVE it this year. Silly me. He had a great time running around and digging in the sand. But he wanted NOTHING to do with the water. And if I went in just to rinse my feet off, he stood on the beach screaming, "NO MOMMY! GET OUT OF THE WATER!" Weird, weird, weird. The only thing I can attribute his fear to was how rough the surf was. The waves were pretty intense, and — as a child of the bathtub-water Gulf Coast — I can certainly understand how intimidating it can be.
This, of course, marked Bigga's very first beach trip. He was a trooper as usual, napping in the stroller and hanging out under the umbrella tent.
Want some chips to go with that sand?
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