eat sand

Everybody knows when you go to the beach, you have to do family pictures. No ifs, ands or buts about it. It is a must. With E sitting unassisted, I was ecstatic to try some brother pics. Occasionally, I get overly ambitious about pics… and cue picture:


Approximately two seconds from this point is when E eats sand for the first time. Not because he lost his balance and toppled haphazardly over or because he put a handful in his mouth himself. Oh, no. Because his loving older brother gave him a nice shove to ensure little brother went face first into the sand. In case, you were wondering, A was letting us know he was over picture time. Ouch. Brotherly love at its best. Now, having said that, A really is an awesome older brother 90% of the time 😉

Now, E is tough. By the time, we were able to grab him, the poor boy’s face was covered with a thin layer of sand. We comforted him and quickly wiped his eyes, mouth and the rest of his face. E let out a few cries, but that was it. I think the shock of being shoved was far more upsetting than the sand in his mouth. Go figure. A minute afterward, and he was smiling like he was having the best time ever. I don’t know about you, but I would have been bawling had I just had my face smashed in the sand. Impressive, my son, impressive.

sandy toes and salty hair


The beach is my comfort. It is my second home. The breeze soothes. The constant slush of the waves offers peace. And, the pure grandiose of the ocean is God’s gift. It’s amazing the power of all these things still outshine the tears, whining and exhaustion that always weasel their way into vacations. Sleepless nights and epic meltdowns all seem manageable at the beach.

And, even better, my two little boys share my love. As I watched A dance around the waves, kicking and squealing with glee, my heart was happy. A wave that caught him off balance sent him into a fit of giggles. His excitement was pure and intense.


It wasn’t always that way. A’s first trips to the beach were filled with uncertainty about those crashing waves and distasteful sand. I’m not going to lie. I was fearful he would decide he hated the beach. What a nightmare.

This was E’s first trip to the beach, and he is truly his Mommy’s boy. From first step onto the beach, this child was all smiles. He was entranced by the sand and studied the waves. And, he planted his pudgy little feet firmly into the muddy sand with no hesitation. This is a beach boy by birth.

“say cheese!”

It’s just not vacation until you get to this point…


So, what spurred on the waterworks? I asked him to please smile for the camera. Totally a legit reason to start sobbing uncontrollably.

I’m not normally one who dresses her boys in coordinating or matching outfit, but we were on vacation, and I thought why not? They will be adorable in their matching red plaid shorts… that you can’t even see in the picture. Lesson learned. Adhere to previous motto of both boys having any clothes on is deemed a success. Makes for much happier pictures.

let’s talk CROCS


They are ugly. So. Very. Ugly.

In fact, I literally cringed when I saw a whole family in CROCS at the beach… Dad, Mom, and two boys. Maybe my reaction was actually a response to the fact that could be us in several years ::shudders::

Yes, I was the mom who always thought, “My child will never own CROCS.” Who cares if they are all purpose? Who cares if they are useful? Who cares if they come in every color under the face of the sun? They are U.G.L.Y. And, then it happened. I bought a pair for A. He LOVES them.

I didn’t actually realize two-year-old little boys had a preference of shoes unless it was plastered with Lightning McQueen or Thomas the Train on its side. I was so wrong. As soon as we walked in the store, A starts jostling around in the stroller, pointing and waving, yelling, “I want those shoes, Momma. Those shoes!” Wow. That was unexpected. Then, he proceeded to rip his sandals off his feet and beg for the lime green CROCS. I’m not 100 percent positive, but I may have purchased these shoes while suffering from shock… not only from his insistence on a pair of shoes, but the price for them as well.

But, we are now proud owners of CROCS, and I have to admit, he looks pretty cute in them. However, here’s to one day not being an entire CROCS family 😉

prescription for mommy

Having a heart baby has turned me into an over-the-top paranoid Mom. At least, that’s how I feel. A simple cold? To the pediatrician. Stopped sleeping for several days? To the pediatrician. Extra fussy? To the pediatrician. Every little thing could techinically be another symptom of his heart, and it terrifies me. Therefore, I should be earning some frequent flyer miles for all these trips to the pedi.

The last visit to the pedi was for excess fussiness and not sleeping at night a short time after E received his new band. And, in my defense, the clinician at the cranial place suggested I contact the pediatrician to make sure it wasn’t an ear infection. I doubt the pedi believed me when I relayed that bit to him since E was becoming a regular patient. Anyway, after getting checked out and all clear, he suggested a prescription for ME.

Ear plugs and a glass of wine.

I think I can handle that one.