Respite? Suspended activity? Ha. Mr. Merriam and Mr. Webster clearly never had small children.
While it was exhausting, chaotic, and full of constant activity, our beach "vacation" (perhaps beach "trip" would be a more fitting word) was so much fun.
Charlie proved to be the biggest trouper of us all, hitting the beach at nearly 9 a.m. every morning, only to return for dinner around 5. He ate lunch on the beach, relieved himself in the ocean, and kissed any sort of "quiet time" goodbye. By the end of the week, child-protective services would probably have taken him from me at one glance. The kid was weathered.
Anna, clinging stubbornly to crawling as her main mode of transportation, was not as easy. I think the sand irritated her knees, so she tired of the beach quickly. She, however, loved the rope swing under the beach house. Both the kids loved spending the mornings riding on the golf cart with Mamun and Papa to get the newspaper (or so I'm told, as I used this time to catch up on some much-needed z's).
We all loved every second of the entire trip.
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