The best part of April already happened.
That’s how much I loved Sunday; the next 29 days can’t hold a candle to 15 minutes on the beach.
It had been months since we’d gone to the beach. Tourists love Miami in the winter, but we like to hold out for the bathtub water in summer. After a glorious week of perfect blue skies, we decided to give the ocean a chance. It was still chilly, but not as bad as expected. It was certainly warmer than the Pacific Northwest lakes I grew up in.
The beach was full of shells, coral and sea sponges. Most of our time was spent collecting and arranging them in little scenes. I took a long dip in the ocean to ease my achy muscles. Nothing beats pain like salt water. Both boys joined me for short swims. I love holding them in the ocean where we are both so small, yet I am still the strong one. After my swim, I collapsed on the beach blanket, leaving Andres to watch the boys along the shore. I always do this.
Andres can’t sit still at the beach and is always finding sea life to marvel at. I am happiest swimming and napping. The beach is the only place I can find a snooze during the daytime. Like a drug, the waves lapping along the shore put me right to sleep.
Usually guilt wakes me up and I force myself to help out with the boys, but on Sunday Jack decided to join me, so I was doing my part.
“I need a rest,” he said.
“Because I’m tired,” he added. These days Jack explains his reason for everything, even when he doesn’t have a reason. All of his sentences have a because or so in them.
I told him to rinse his sandy hands and come back to the blanket. He did, and then I taught him how to lay down without getting sand over everything. The sun instantly burnt his baby eyes.
“This is what you do,” I instructed as I handed him a beach hat. “We put the hat over our face and then the sun won’t bother us.”
He did just that.
And stayed.
For 15 minutes. Maybe longer.
He’s two years old, twenty-nine pounds and thirty-five inches.
He stayed still, only moving his right hand to find mine and hold it.
We napped, hats on our heads, under the Miami sunshine like the beach bums we are.
Come on, April! Bring it! Let me see you try to top that!
Leave a Reply