We at the beach.

We are in the beach holy land of Northern Virginia, aka the Outer Banks, for a week, woot! Us NOVA kids love this place. It’s not super crowded. The beaches are nice. And apparently there are whales…yes whales…we saw a humpback whale yesterday…in North Carolina…it was so unbelievable we googled “what types of whales would you see in the atlantic ocean” and guess what HUMPBACKS. Tangent.

Our first day at the beach was one of those typical ones for a family of 2 under 3. It started with puke. Yup, puke. Luke basically believe’s he is a fish and is able to jump in all sorts of water, drink it all up, and nothing bad will happen to him. Well, apparently he’s almost correct, he does jump in like a maniac and bob there like a buoy, but something bad will happen to him if he drinks too much water….he’ll puke all over the rental house carpet. I die.

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But the kids a fighter, and after two yucky pancake pukes (you’re welcome for the visual), we were dressed and ready to beach it! Now, homie has been talking and asking to go to the beach for weeks. Talking about the ocean, sand castles, sand, taking grave digger and mcqueen to the beach to show them the goods, and so, I anticipated great joy. What I saw was utter terror. Apparently he still thinks the ocean is made of hot lava. It’s still a giant body of water destined to eat him up and swallow him whole. His toes were having no part of it and he didn’t want anyone else to be remotely close to it either….WOMP WOMP. But the upside is I don’t really have to worry about him being eaten by Humpback Whales or sharks…live in the light y’all.

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Emma on the other hand? Give her a baby pool full of water and she will bask in the shade all afternoon as long as she has a sandy shovel to chew on. At least one of these kids is easy going…she probably takes after her father, that’s why.

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It also does not help that the sand was brought in from the seventh layer of hell…or the ocean gods are trying to bake our feet from the bottom up. It seriously feels like walking over hot coals, but without the zen ability to do it without screaming #$(*#% as you trot along to the stairs trying not to run and look like a clown. BUT ITS REALLY HOT. It’s the only thing I can complain about because the water is perfect, it’s clear, its cool, it’s not raining, and there are no icky biting flies. But SAND HOT, LORD.

We’ll try again with this whole “ocean won’t eat you, ocean nice, just like big moving pool” today now that captain pukes pancakes and peanut butter (sorry again) is feeling a bit better and maybe more confident…happy beach thoughts please.

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:).

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