She doesn't quite get the ocean, the fact that as it draws back it also rushes forth, so in her eagerness she pulled me past the damp sand and into the wet. Mama, mama, she cried, it's so big. I tried to warn her but before the words could come out of my mouth the ocean was back, it rushed all around us in a swirling mass of froth. She scampered up my torso as if I were a tree in summer, her arms around my neck and her legs fiercely gripping my waist. The ocean startled her but instead of turning and leaving as I was first compelled to do I simply leaned down into the water and we both were both soaked through. After a minute of terror she relaxed, she understood wet is okay and it's a lot of fun too.
We headed back to our towels a while later to dry off and have a snack. She's sitting beside me now watching the waves crashing down on the shore. Mama, she said, it really is so big. I didn't know it would be so big and I hugged her tightly because the truth of it is neither did I.
When she's not at the beach, jen blogs about keeping up with her child and other things on one plus two
The beach offers my daughter a freedom that she does not get at home. We live in a city, and Ada can not normally take off running the way she does on the sand. The physical freedom and lack of boundaries at the beach are such a rare experience that... read more
I tell people that we're lucky to live a stone's throw from the Pacific. It's a lie. The ocean: most people who claim to love it don't live anywhere near it. They go to the beach for a week in the summer, maybe on the weekends if they live withi... read more