The Truth About Going To The Beach With Kids
Ahh the beach. The surf, the sand, the sun, the relaxation…wait, did I say relaxation? I meant this:
The Pack up: Load up the car with towels, the EZ up(which isn’t easy), sand toys, boogie boards, fins, a GIANT cooler with ice, snacks, fruit, sandwiches(that you woke up early just to make), water, and perhaps beer. Just kidding, definitely beer; hats, sunscreen oh and don’t forget the kids.
The Parking:
Beach parking is ALWAYS fun. You drive around taking a deep breath as each block takes you further away from the surf. You pray that your parking spot doesn’t end up being a 5K in disguise. Once parked, you load up the family with as much crap as you possibly can so it looks as though you’re heading out on the Lewis and Clark expedition with Sacagawea by your side rockin’ a super cute tankini but no, it’s just an everyday trip to the beach with kids.
Trudging along to your prime real estate on the sand, you listen to remarks from your children like “my arms are gonna fall off,” “I can’t feel my fingers” etc, while onlookers speculate borderline child abuse. When you finally arrive to your destination, you get to drag the “wheeled”cooler in a foot of sand making the “wheeled” feature absolutely pointless.
The Setup:
You need shade. Shade is your sanctuary. It keeps your kids from burning and makes you look like a pretty responsible parent. This is why you purchased a canopy. Setting up the canopy however, is no easy feat. Ever. It won’t go up, or click, or snap, or extend and almost causes a spousal mutiny while trying to assemble. 1 in every 3 times I assist in setting up said canopy, my fingers experience some sort of casualty involving pinching and blood blisters. My only explanation for this phenomenon is that the canopy has been possessed by a sick s.o.b with a cruel sense of humor and I’m sticking with it. Once shade is put in place, you strategically lay out all towels for optimum space and prepare to apply sunscreen which is an event in itself with multiple children. I refuse to use spray on sunscreen. It does not work as well as the squirt and spread lotion. That’s my opinion and I’m right. So, twice as much time as the spray on… in a nutshell. You then request that everyone locate their hat and proceed to argue with them for 5 minutes as to why again they have to wear it.
All preparations seem to be complete but alas, it is not to be. Someone already wants a snack. The cooler is opened, contents are ransacked and snacks are dispersed. Of course snacks make you thirsty so naturally everyone wants water to wet their whistles. Bestowing beverages gives them temporary happiness so you send them to the sand. Phew!
The Relaxation:
You finally hear silence and are just about to sit down and take a deep relaxing breath when 1 of your brood comes running from the shore soaking wet and sandy and informs you that they have to take a dump. But they conveniently wanted to take a dip in the waves and then roll in the sand beforehand. You can’t just send them back to the water for a number one. A number two is a whole other beast. Barely visible in the distance, you see that the bathrooms are so far away you wonder why there isn’t some kind of shuttle service offered.
A hefty trek and an impressive concentrated booty clenching from your child to the bathroom reveals more fun obstacles. Removing a sandy wet swimsuit in a dark and dank beach restroom, listening to the child complain that it’s difficult to wipe because of the questionable choices they made earlier which were to successfully trap sand into every crevice of their body. You zone out for just a moment and think to yourself “man, I need a beer.”
With the potty done, you trek back to the sand while daydreaming of tranquility and stillness. All you want to do is sit…for just 5 minutes. As soon as you squat your butt on your strategically placed towel you hear “can you build a sandcastle with me?” So you start to build a sandcastle. With impressive attention to detail you totally get into it and then your 4-year-old comes out of nowhere with a giant palm frond… WTF! And destroys your architecturally award winning sand village while yelling out various Kung Fu grunts. No one cares…
and it’s on to the next activity.
The Real Reason For The Beach:
Eventually you sit, although you can’t recall when it actually happened. A sense of happy and calm washes over you as you watch your children frolic on the beach. You smile to yourself forgetting all of the preparation and frustration that occurred just an hour ago. You say to yourself “the beach is the best,” “this is the life,” I love being a mom,” “look at these memories being made” as you sip your tasty beverage.
You pat yourself on the back and confirm that all of the contemplating in your inner monologue as to whether or not you are raising well rounded members of society is no longer a question, but a FACT! Life is good. Absorbing some glorious vitamin D is even better and right then and there you vow to make the beach a priority with your spouse as your witness! Quality. Family. Time.
The Reality:
Ask me how I feel in 4 hours after we’ve packed up all of our shit, loaded it back into the car, made every valiant effort to keep sand from entering the vehicle and failed miserably, and all random finger shaped bits of burned skin from my botched sunscreen applications have revealed themselves.
Life’s a bitch beach.
Sara is from sunny San Diego. She is a wife, busy mother of 3 and amateur chef stumbling through organized chaos a daily basis using sarcasm and humor to stay sane. She will take any opportunity to demonstrate the Running Man in public and enjoys being a sarcastic smart ass. You can follow Sara on her blog, Happy & Humble as well as on her social pages, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and Pinterest.
