Beached

As someone born in California, I am ashamed to admit it. Prior to our family vacation last month, my children had never been to the beach. Though the beaches near the bay area are less-than-stellar, we remedied our children's deprivation with a visit to the coast.


Of course it was cloudy and bordering on chilly most of the time we were there. That's just how the beaches there roll. However, much to the dismay of the grown-ups, there was even less surf than the usual sad showing. No boogie boarding for us! We still had a lot of fun. Anything is fun with Aunt J and Uncle N around:


Plus there was sand:

Scott (who was apparently the Gordon's Fisherman in a past life) is thinking, "This is SO much cooler than my sandbox at home. Just look at all of it!"

We were fortunate enough to score a pre-dug big hole:

All the climbing, sliding, and almost-but-not-quite trapping the kids fun without any of the work for Mom and Dad!

M started building a sandcastle. Claire thought it needed her own personal touch:

Using your feet still counts as "touching," right?

Scott felt that it needed more. More destruction, that is:

Some villages get burninated, some get Scottinated. I can almost hear the screams of the little sand villagers as they run from Scott raining down destruction. And I had thought the little castle was under more threat of succumbing to a mini-tsunami (AKA the rising tide).

Fortunately, the sun eventually did come out and we got to spend a little time cavorting in the water without coats on. We even made it through with no hypothermia!


Try not to blind yourself with the whiteness of M shirtless in this picture. And be glad there's none of me, because I make M look down right olive-toned.