Since it's freezing out there, let's talk about the beach. I love everything about it. The sights, the smells, the sounds.....it's perfection. You can plop me anywhere, as long as I have an ocean view, I'm a happy hubby. Of course, a family trip (with a 6-month-old) is a bit different than say, a romantic getaway. I found this out 4 years ago. Here's the super quick version.
After my wife "nested" in the condo for a bit, we were soon beach bound. Mommy, Daddy, and the little dude were headed for paradise. We had our sunblock, snacks, bottles, juices, diapers, wipes, floaty things, towels, toys and the world's largest comforter. We were ready to setup camp and introduce our son to the sand. After finally getting everything unpacked, we were ready to watch our boy discover his new surroundings. There was one problem. The 6-monther was in attack mode. My very lubricated, sticky son made a spastic leap for the sand. Not good. Following his face plant into the white stuff, he resembled an ice-cream cone dipped in nuts. He was covered in the grindy stuff. He soon had that look. His bottom lip began to flop out. As I noticed the fit about to peak, I grabbed him (like a football) and sprinted for the ocean. Another problem.....it was late April and the water was NOT warm. I then had a VERY cold, sandy son.
At that point, our family became the entertainment for the rest of the vacationers. We were that family who relaxed on the beach for 2 whole minutes. We were that family who made a leisurely, loving stroll towards the ocean, only to follow that with a mad, baby-crying dash for the indoor pool. We were a hoot of a family.
For the rest of the vacation, anything involving sand was kept to a minimum. My 6-month-old loved splashing around the pool and riding on Daddy's shoulders along the ocean shore. He was fascinated with the waves. All I could hear up there was "da-da, na-na, ma-ma and bah-bah."
Even though that beach trip was a bit different, I was one, happy Daddy.