A Shitty Day At The Beach

Yesterday was a day when I needed much more than just an IV of caffeine.  Hell, what I needed was more like a damn IV of margaritas!  Cause yesterday?  Well, yesterday was pretty freaking sucky.  Any time that sandy poo is part of a trip to the beach is a day that I’d rather just forget altogether.

When you see your child running toward you through the sand with brown water running down her leg, you can pretty much bet your ass that you’re about to have yourself a wreck of a mess on your hands.  Do you know how well sand and poo go together?  Yeah, they don’t.  Like, at all.  I won’t go into all the nitty gritty details, since I care deeply about the welfare of my readers, but trust me, it was nothing short of a gag-inducing experience, without a doubt.  By the time I finished cleaning up the crime scene, I wanted to either go home and call it a day or hit the nearest bar stool and go to mother effin’ town.  I played the “Good Mama” card, though, put aside my feelings of nausea and bitterness, and let my daughter enjoy some more fun in the sun with her friends.  Cause that’s how I roll, people.  That did not, however, stop my eyes from shooting extra pointy daggers toward those few lucky bitches who were peacefully reading their magazines in their beach chairs as their offspring played off in the distance.  I mean really, bitches, take your perfect little parenting techniques and shove ’em up straight up your tranquil little asses, ok?

So, given the state of my afternoon, you can probably imagine, then, how well a tweeted picture of my husband’s view of the Eiffel Tower went over at the end of the day.  He’s in one of the most awesome cities on earth (for business, but STILL!), while I’m stuck here scraping shit out from underneath my fingernails.  A little off-balance, wouldn’t ya say?  I forewarned him that further awesome photography shots would most likely result in the loss of someone’s balls.  I think he got the picture.  So, here’s hopin’ that today is a little less “shitty” than yesterday….


Mama. Needs. Sleep.

     Yesterday I think I must’ve been running solely on auto pilot.  I was still exhausted from all the weekend’s activities (AKA:  hosting a crapload of people in my backyard), so I think it’s pretty fair to say that I was a bit spacey, to say the least.  I thought a trip to the beach with the kids would be a good way to pass the time.  I got us all packed up with snacks, towels, and toys. Unfortunately, though, I forgot to pack my brain.  

     When we arrived at the beach, I realized that I had grabbed the wrong beach bag.  And, also at about that same time, I got a call from a good friend who needed to vent.  She always does the same for me whenever I’m having a rotten day, so of course I’m always willing to reciprocate.  As I was allowing her to get a load off her chest, I searched the bag only to find that our beach passes didn’t appear to be anywhere in it.  My friend said she needed to call me back, so I took the kids up to the beach office to see if they could look us up in their system to see that we do have passes.  My kids were getting antsy as we stood there waiting for the guy to make the call to the park district to check us out.  He finally gave us wristbands and sent us on our way, as my kids bitched and moaned about who had to carry the bag of beach toys.  We waddled through the sand until we found a good spot.  I plopped the beach bag down and unzipped the little inside pocket to tuck away my cell phone and keys.  But then what to my wondering eyes did appear?  Why, the envelope with all of our beach passes, of course!  I had the damn thing with me all along! I guess I got distracted with the phone call.

     Then, I happened to notice that my son was still in his underwear and shorts. I had meant to change him into a bathing suit before we left the house, but I guess I forgot!  At least I had managed to lather him up with sunscreen.  The only problem was that he was wearing white shorts, which are now most likely stained yellow from all the sunscreen.  Smooth move, slick!  Luckily, the little guy could’ve cared less.  In fact, he thought it was hysterical that he was wearing underwear full of sand. That’s the great thing about kids — when life hands them lemons, they are more than happy to make lemonade!

     The rest of the afternoon at the beach turned out to be pretty enjoyable.  I was so looking forward to collapsing into my bed last night and trying to catch up on all my lost zzz’s.  However, my body had different plans, and I randomly woke up at 3:30 this morning and couldn’t go back to sleep.  I think I may need a co-pilot today, because even my auto-pilot seems to be sleep-deprived….


Oh, Snap!

     Since yesterday was yet another gorgeous day here, I took the kids over to the beach after school to meet some of their friends.  We live in the Great Lakes area and are very fortunate to have a huge, beautiful beach just five minutes from our house.  My out of town friends are always surprised when we take them to our beach because it truly is like a Florida beach.  We practically live at this beach in the summer because we are all secretly beach bums.  

     The outside temperature yesterday was a perfect eighty-five degrees, with nothing but sun and blue skies overhead.  The sand was even hot under your feet.  The water temperature, though, was quite another story.  It was flat-out, freaking C-O-L-D!!!!  The other moms and I wouldn’t even let our kids get in the water because it was so flipping chilly.  So, it was nothing short of an “Oh, snap!” moment when my daughter’s little friend’s favorite bucket got swept away and ended up about a half mile away from the shore.

     Now, in my head, I was thinking how much that sucks that the bucket was gone.  Even though the little girl was clearly upset, you couldn’t have paid me to drag my ass through that freezing water to fetch a damn plastic bucket.  This little girl’s mother, though, immediately whipped her skirt off and started out after the bucket.  I told her that she deserved the Mother of the Year award without a doubt — I mean, we’re talking about wading through fifty-five degree water in a bikini!  Unfortunately, though, the bucket had sunk by the time she got all the way out there.  I felt so bad for the mom, whose chattering teeth and pissed-off look said it all when she got back to the shore.  She admitted that it wasn’t worth it in the end.

     And just as I was saying how she’s a better mom than me for going in after it, I looked up to see my son’s Croc floating away in the lake, as well. Son of a bitch!  A shoe is a bit more essential than a bucket, so I, too, was then forced to drag my bikini-clad derriere into that frigid water.  Luckily, I was able to retrieve the shoe, but I had to spend some time thawing out once I got back to the beach.  It was seriously like an ice bath in that lake!  We then moved EVERYTHING we brought to the beach far, far away from the water.  No one was going back in, unless an actual person was floating away.  Oh, the things we mothers do for our kids….


Life’s A Beach


My kids absolutely love the beach.  They could totally be beach bums, just like their mama. They can entertain themselves for hours on end in the sand.  They dig, they roll, they build, and they throw the stuff as long as is physically possible.  They remind me of the chicken that I roll in bread crumbs because every single inch of them is literally covered with sand by the time we leave at the end of the day.  I really don’t know how they do it, but they manage to get sand in every little crack and crevice on every little part of their bodies.  It’s always a good time when they have to take a big poop and need help wiping with a sandy butt.   Another crowd pleaser is when sunscreen has to be reapplied to a sand-covered face.  I try to silence their cries and complaints by telling them that I’m “exfoliating” their skin, for which they’ll later thank me.  Often times, it appears that we have actually brought the beach home with us when they remove their bathing suits — a mountain of sand just plops right there on the bathroom floor.  How in the world do they stand that?  That’s basically like wearing underwear stuffed with sandpaper.  I’m sure it will be a bittersweet memory when we are still finding clumps of sand in our car in a few weeks, but, hey, as the old saying goes, life’s a beach!