So things are a bit out of order here on ye olde’ blog, but since May is our month of chaos, I’m just sort of throwing things up as I can. And I can’t not talk about our birthday beach trip.
We got to the beach late and decided to put the boys to bed ASAP, as in no showers, just jammies and in bed. This turned out to be a mistake, since Tate had been outside all day long and ended up with a horrible allergy attack that kept us up all night long.
It was terrible. Truly. Terrible.
So by morning time we were all in fine form, but the weather was absolutely gorgeous and the boys could not wait to get out on the beach. They were bouncing off the walls by 8:30 a.m. and an hour later, here we were, all ready to go.
We were ready, friends. I like to call this next series of photos, “The Half-Hour of Optimism and Happiness.”
And then this happened:
It should be known, that Derek always falls in the water eventually. It’s only a matter of time.
But we were still in good spirits:
And then I decided to go back to the room to get our kites and when I came back, Tate was fast asleep next to Ryan and Derek was huddled miserably in a towel shivering.
Because it was 10:30 a.m. on the Oregon Coast. The water was so cold that it actually made my feet hurt. People were wearing fleeces. There was wind. I’m surprised we lasted the half hour.
So we decided to wake up Tate and take them back to town and maybe get some lunch. And this is where the fun really began. Because Derek was already kind of on the edge because he realized how incredibly uncomfortable it is to fall into sub-zero degree water and then sit on the beach, with wind, wrapped in nothing but a towel, but then we woke Tate up and Tate was basically like, “WE NEED TO LEAVE THIS PLACE OF ICY DEATH NOW.” And Derek was like, “YES. What that guy said.”
And nothing we could say could assuage them. Every now and then kids will just freak out about something, every kid does this. We are lucky that ours do it rarely, but here it was. The freak out. The no reasoning with them, survival mode, Tate just kept saying, “NO, I need to go home right now where it’s warm.” “I want to go home, it’s warm there.” “LET”S GO HOME!!!”
Ryan’s head might have started to quietly explode at that point. I say quietly, because only I could tell, but it was happening. Oh, yes it was.
Family vacations are the best.
Finally we managed to drag them off the beach and back to the motel. Which thankfully, we had not had to check out of yet because it was still so early in the morning.
Here is a picture that pretty much depicts the feelings of everyone at that point:
We got the boys back to the room and into a warm shower which seemed to perk everyone up. Though Tate was still repeating that he just wanted to go home where it was warm. We decided that maybe food would help so we went into town and sat down at this restaurant called The Local Scoop, that I remembered eating at the last time we were there a couple years ago.
It was only after we’d sat and looked at the menu for awhile that we realized that it had been terrible when we’d eaten there before. But we were there, with the dog and our crabby children and so it was decided to just tough it out.
Here is Emma, the only member of our party who was both happy to be at The Local Scoop and also grateful for an unexpected beach trip.
After some food, Tate and Derek perked up.
Here is Derek simulating his joy at drinking not only his own milk, but the remainder of his brother’s.
We weren’t sure what to do from then on, but I told Ryan there was this playground that I remembered from my childhood that had sand, etc. that maybe the boys would like to play at. He was understandably reluctant since we did not come to the beach in order to go to the furthest edge of town from the beach to play on a play structure, but you do what you gotta do.
And no one wanted to listen to anymore whining about how “cold” it was.
They enjoyed themselves.
But I just need to warn you, if you go there, do not expect sand. Apparently there have been some updates since I played there, oh, 12 years or so ago and sand is out, bark chips are in.
After that, we were all poised to head out, when Ryan suggested we take the kites and give the beach one more try.
We ended up on the other end of the beach from where we’d been originally, the weather was 20 degrees warmer, the wind had died down to a warm breeze,
and it was perfect.
My dad and Edna had given the boys these kites for Easter and they were perfect for the beach. They were small enough that the boys could fly them by themselves, but large enough that they made an impressive flight.
D loved flying that kite so much. He was absolutely enthralled by it. Tate kept his string short so he could run around and control it, but Derek wanted his to go as high up as he could.
And then I ruined everything by wanting to bring his kite down lower so I could get a nice close shot of him flying it. He got super mad and went and laid in the sand and would only give me this face if I tried to take any more pictures
He’s a charmer like that.
He also rejected my attempts to make it up to him by getting the kite back up, so while I ran around yelling at him to, “Look, Derek! Look! It’s right back where it was!”
He went and started throwing stuff in this little beach river.
Tate became similarly distracted and that was it! Kite flying was over. I’d like to you to also note the dog following them obsessively. She cannot leave them alone.
So we spent the remainder of the time out playing in the water and throwing things. Because water and throwing things are the go-to entertainment in our family.
And finally, this is what happens when you don’t sleep all night and then spend hours at the beach.