For those of you out there in Reader’s Land who, as of yet, haven’t had the unique opportunity to brave a beach trip with a toddler and a threenager in tow, this column may just give you pause. It might even change your future travel plans. And for those of you who already have embarked on such a trip, all I can say is, “Been there, done that, and I now have a story to tell.”
Our trip started at 3 a.m. Yes, it was my bright idea to buckle our two granddaughters, Little One and Sweet Caroline, into car seats at such an early hour. My thinking was traveling at night would be easier for us and them — them being asleep and all. No yelling, no whining, no crying, no nothing. Only sounds heard would be sweet little baby snores floating up from the backseat. They would sleep for miles and miles only to wake up when we reach the beach refresh and ready to play. Things didn’t go exactly as planned.
The Wife said waking up at 2 a.m., yanking kids out of bed, and strapping them into cold car seats would be a bad idea. She was wrong. It was a very bad idea. Seem such action actually wakes kids up and no amount of pleading by yours truly got them to go back to sleep. They were awake for the entire trip to the beach.
However the adults in the car, who foolishly got up at 2 a.m., dozed off several times before reaching the final destination. During the entire trip there was constant whining and complaining. Most of it coming from us, the sleep deprived adults.
The second lesson The Wife and I learned during our beach vacation? GPS lies. We foolishly followed the directions for the shortest route to our destination given to us by our GPS. Our five-hour trip took almost eight with the last two taking us through small towns and back roads somewhere in Alabama. Upon check-in the first thing the clerk said when we told him how long our trip took was, “Oh, don’t follow the GPS directions. For some reason it doesn’t show the new highway.”
Our first day on the beach, The Wife and I learned yet another important lesson. It’s well known diapers are sized for the weight of the child. I have discovered two other reasons for the poundage displayed on the side of the box. A 30-pound diaper will indeed hold 30 pounds of water. It will also hold something else: 30 pounds of sand. Whether it be with water or sand, when a diaper is filled to its capacity, you’ll easily know. It will be at that point that it’ll be ripped off and you’ll be running around the beach chasing a naked baby.
The second day brought yet another lesson, this one being quite painful. With one child being blonde, and the other a redhead, sunblock was a must for any prolonged sandcastle building exposure. Top of the line sunblock cream was carefully applied to baby skin; a layer of spray sunscreen was then applied as a topcoat for an additional layer of protection. Then fancy sun hats were adorned.
Unfortunately, all the precautions still didn’t keep the sun from frying unprotected skin like bacon. The girls were fine. It was Yours Truly who got burnt to a crisp. It seems it’s not a good idea after all to let a threenager apply sunblock to your back.
I thought the beach would be the perfect babysitter. The Wife and I would simply sit under our huge umbrella and watch as our girls play for hours peacefully in the sand. By buying the identical beach toys, shovels, buckets and fishnets for each child all arguments would be resolved even before they got started. Wrong once again.
I failed to remember from my own childhood that kids can and will argue about anything, even the exact same beach toys. Such arguments instantly suck all the tranquility of the beach right out of the air.
Trust me, having the only kids on the beach throwing hour-long tantrums on an otherwise perfect day isn’t fun. Yes, while trying to calm a threenager, sand being kicked into your eyes isn’t fun.
The constant crashing of waves onshore couldn’t drown out all the crying. (Yes, having sand kicked in your eyes as an adult hurts just as bad as when you’re a kid.) It’ll also garner judgmental looks from all the other parents, and grandparents, up and down the beach, trying to enjoy their vacation.
The Wife and I thought their time on the beach, out in the sun and in the ocean, would wear our little ones out. Surely they would be begging to go to sleep early at the end of each day. Wrong once again.
Seems our grandchildren can actually become too tired and push through the sleep mode. No amount of begging from us who have been totally wore out from the “relaxing” day at the beach could convince them it’s actually a good idea to go to bed.
Finally, during our stay at the beach there was one constant each day. From under the shade of our umbrella, The Wife and I enjoyed watching for hours as our two little girls delighted in using small hand-held fishing nets and sand buckets. Their mission was to “rescue” minnows that had been trapped in a small beach tidal pool.
From the tidal pool to the ocean and back again, minnows were caught and set free. Neither one of us had the heart to tell the girls that after baking in the hot sun in the tidal pool, already dead minnows are indeed still dead when released back into the ocean.
After five days of building sandcastles, splashing in the ocean, catching waves in sand buckets, and over 200 pictures and videos later, we left our relaxing beach vacation behind.
Driving back home in the pouring rain, listening to little baby snores floating up from two tanned angels in car seats, two thoughts came to mind. First, the person who really needs a vacation is the one who just came back from one. Second, we simply have to book the same condo again next year. It was the best beach vacation ever.
[Rick Ryckeley has been writing stories since 2001. To read more of Rick’s stories, visit his blog: storiesbyrick.wordpress.com.]
