a day at the beach

A blog. Why not? Is this perhaps the grown-up version of MySpace. I admit, I do have a MySpace page and was quite addicted for a while. Then I remembered, I'm 30. No MySpace; blogspot. That's the ticket. Trendy, hip, and tech savvy, but not creepy.

We went to the beach today. The boys had a great time. Elijah actually got in the water, and got knocked over by several waves then came out smiling ear to ear. Granted it took about three hours for him to decide to get in, but he did; and that's what counts.
Jacob has become quite obsessed with boogie boarding. Of course after every recent visit to the beach he has informed me that he NEEDS a rash guard. The problem is, the rash guard only protects his trunk while the main source of his discomfort is thigh rub, a common malady for the stockier individual. What to do? Maybe we just stop going to the beach.
But what self-respecting Southern California raised gal could say such a thing? I refuse to become my father and quote, "water is for fish." Besides, I love the beach. I love that every sound around you, even on a busy beach day like today, is drowned out by the crashing waves and fierce winds. I hate the sand, but who doesn't. And today I dabbled in a little boogying myself and found it exceptionally satisfying to ride a wave to the shore. On days like today it is almost a crime NOT to be at the beach. When the water is 70 degrees and the air is 85, life is simply perfect; for a few fleeting hours anyway. Then we get home and realize we have carried a small island home with us buried in the nether-regions of our swimwear.