Beach Boys

We kind of love the beach. I love looking back through my blog at beach posts of days of yore. Like our first beach trip last summer (I'm happy we made it much sooner this year!). Though not our beach, two summers ago, we spent some time in the salty waters of the ocean in Salem, MA. Pregnant at the beach with Tommy. Or Luke at the beach when he was only 18 months old (picture me clutching my chest).

Yesterday, we made our first beach trip of the season. It was much-awaited by two little boys, the bigger who could not believe that we had to wait until after Tommy's nap. Lucky for him, Tommy woke up stupid early as always and thus, went down for a nap early. First we went for barbecue, where Luke ate an adult-sized pulled pork sandwich. My kid, the carnivore. Not that a full stomach stopped him from climbing a sand dune seven times in a row!

Tommy grew more fearless between this summer and last. He was unafraid to dash into the water, which meant someone had to be on him at all times (this is kind of the norm for Tommy, anyway). He was undaunted, though. He would lose his balance, go under, come up spluttering and laughing, and go back for more.


And, of course, Grandma and Grandpa were more than willing to swing him around to his little heart's content.


Although the temperature passed the 90s, it was the picture perfect beach day. Blue skies, puffy white clouds. We couldn't ask for better beach weather.


We like to get to the beach in the afternoon and stay later. It starts to cool down. People start to clear out and leave for dinner. You get to watch the sun sink lower into the horizon. It makes for the perfect way to end a day.


And the best thing about the beach? The shortest person in this house is so tired that he's still sleeping. Shh....