"I don't like da beach..."

I have always in-visioned having a child who loved the beach even more than i. She would want to be on the beach from sun up to sun down, collecting shells, making sand castles, playing in the water and running on the beach. She would simply beg me to stay longer at the beach and i would happily say "of course".

Isn't it funny how you sometimes think that your child will just "love" the same things that you do?!?! Really, it can be almost downright hysterical...in a sick, sick kinda way.

On the morning of our second day here, we hit the beach. I can't tell you how excited i was to be on the beach. I love the beach with a passion. The smell of the sea water, the sand, and the amazing sounds of the waves. It feels like coming home to me, when i finally get to sink my toes into the sand. Emma, was really excited, too, having found some other little girls to play with. I settled down into my chair to enjoy the beach with a book that i would probably not read. Robert watched over Emma, who was playing with her new little friends. All was well for the next hour or so...and then, i was just about to doze off when i heard Emma crying.

I was so close to dozing off when i heard Emma crying. Really. I was SO close.

Crying?

At the beach?

My daughter?

Couldn't be.

ah, yes, Grasshopper, it was.

I could not figure out what in the world the problem was. She was crying that she hated the beach. She hated the water. She hated the sand. She itched...

Being the calm, understanding loopy mother that i am, i finally figured out that she had sand in her bottoms. I grab a towel, wrapped it around her, and took off her bathing suit. I am not, btw, happy. Really? Of COURSE there is sand in your bottoms! She and her little friends were digging a hole to China in the sand, for heaven's sake. Couldn't i just get back into my chair and continue to pretend i was going to nap?

umm, that would be a 'no' for those of you out there without the blessings of children who were wondering.

So, i dust off the sand a almost hysterical Emma....deciding to just take her back in and clean her up. I get her upstairs, still crying (not me, her) and talk her into a bubble bath with her friends (the dinosaurs). She calms down a little and finally begins to calm down a bit. I sit on the floor, watching her play, wondering what in the world she was so upset about.

As she plays mermaid in the tub, she flips over so i can see her bottom.

Emma has sand abrasions all over her bottom and the tops of her legs. Bright, red, angry sand abrasions...i called for Robert, not really wanting him to see that i was a candidate for the Worst Mother of the Year Award by getting irritated her when she was truly in pain.

"Isabel," he tells me quietly, "it's okay. It's just sand abrasions. She'll be fine."

I knew that...really i did. But the thing that i knew, too, was that i couldn't believe how selfish i had acted. I just wanted to sit on the beach...and i was irritated that i couldn't.

The thing is, vacations are different now. It's not an Isabel and Robert get-a-way anymore. It's a FAMILY vacation. And that means that everyone is on vacation...and well, it seems that i am kinda not. I'm just in a different place, doing what i do, being a Mom. Moms don't take vacations on family vacations...

...which makes me sound like the most selfish person in the world.

And i guess i am. Seriously? I am complaining about being a Mom?!?! This is the job i wanted most in the world. This gig is 24-7, being a Mom. I knew that before i signed up for the title of Mommy.

To be honest, i wouldn't want to be on vacation without Emma or Robert. Where is the fun in that?

I am surprised, you know, that my sister and i made it into adulthood...had i been my mother, i would have left the both of us at a rest stop while we were on vacation. My sister and i were horrible together growing up. Being in a car with no air-conditionaire for hours on end together in the back seat did not bring out the best in either of us. Kudos to my Mama for not beating us with a tree limb or kicking us out of the car and having my Dad drive off without us.

Back to being selfish...

Perhaps the solution is to have a day on vacation for both Robert and i where we take off alone to do what ever it is we want to do, alone. He could go do that boat/fishy thing and i could take off with my camera for the day to just photograph.

I just don't remember my parents doing stuff like that...where ever my parents were is where my sister and i were. Of course, my Mom did look pissed off a lot during our vacations...a day away from the three of us probably would have done wonders for her mental health.

This being a Mom thing is hard sometimes...

I'm being called by Emma to eat Popsicles in bed, so i should go.

I don't want to miss doing that, you know....it's our new Family Vacation Ritual. :)