Here’s the difference between men and women in my house.
Wife: I didn’t dust your dresser because your laundry was on top. I didn’t move it because I didn’t know what you wanted to do with it. So please move us and dust your dresser.
Men: Honey, I dusted my dresser! All I had to do was wipe it off with the laundry when I moved it.
The beach and I are not friends, but we tolerate each other. Let’s say we have and understanding.
We just wrapped up a weekend in a very nice Wilmington hotel where we visited both Wrightsville and Kure beaches on North Carolina’s Cape Fear Coast. It was a mixed experience. We had lots of fun with the kids in the sand and surf, but it comes at a cost that is almost unbearable for me. I’m just not a fan of lugging half a living room and a galley kitchen to sit and bake on the sand.
This all goes back to when I was a kid and it was just me and my mom. We would venture to the beach for a day and I would be done by about lunchtime. About that time she would be turning her chair to get a better angle on the sun.
We would bring her trifold chaise lounge that weighed 15 pounds, a metal cooler that had a 1962 vintage. All I got was a towel and a plastic pail and shovel. Lunch consisted of soggy and sandy tuna sandwiches and soggy chips. Boo-hoo, right? Call the whaaaaaa-ambulance! Yeah, yeah.
Well, it sucked, and I’ve hated the beach most of my life because of it.
Not all of my beach experiences are bad ones. I have lots of good memories on the beach, even as an adult and a dad.
So now I have a challenge to figure out what it is I like about the beach. I’m beginning to realize that I like to put on sunscreen before I get there. While there I want something to do like build a sandcastle or go on a seashell hunt. And I want to bring as little with me as possible. That last part is crucial. I also want to find a beach that is a reasonable drive, has nearby parking, and isn’t too crowded.
Because all I really want is my kids to have good memories of their childhood’s on the beach so they will one day enjoy the beach with their own kids.
UPDATE: Just after writing this post, A was back in her bassinet, and through no lobbying on my part. She just didn’t like her crib. I love this girl.
My daughter is sleeping in her crib tonight. It’s her first night there, and it’s my wife’s sole decision. I am opposed to it. She’s not yet 10 weeks old, and I think we can get another few weeks out of the bassinet in our bedroom. My wife is aware of my feelings, too.
See, this beautiful little girl is our second child. She is also most likely our last. So, this first transition – from bassinet to crib – is a tough one for me in part because my wife wants to get rid of the bassinet. I don’t. I know, of course, it’s unrealistic to keep it until our kids have kids. But I’m not ready to part with it yet.
When we were going through these transitions with our oldest, a son, it was my wife who would dig in her heels over such things.
So, now I wonder is it a mother/son-father/daughter dichotomy? Is it a first child/last child thing? I don’t know. All I know is that I’m not happy about this move. There. I got that off my chest.
Peaks and Lavallees 