For some reason I was thinking about the beach. It's 47 degrees and winter time, I shouldn't be thinking about a trip to the beach. But, it was clearly calling me for something, so in typical hippie 'listen to the universe when it's so obviously trying to tell you something' fashion, we went.
I bundled Summer up as best I could, 2 layers everywhere and her big jacket and I forced to her to keep her hat on.
We went down to Edmonds beach, an hour drive, and I parked. The salt air, the ferries, the sand and the lightly sprinkling rain were our only companions on the long stretch of beach. I didn't have anyone asking me questions and no one cared how I felt, I didn't have to explain to anyone why my face was red and I didn't get choked up talking to people, because there was
It was incredibly cold but the layers I had forced upon Summer seemed to be doing the job. I unpacked our little day bag and laid out towels for the 2 of us to sit on, Summer was not having that at all. As soon as she saw the sand she ran and dove into it. She is a Northwest girl, through and through.
I had brought a bucket and I had an iced coffee cup that we used to make sand castles, well, I used to make sand castles. When I said, "Summer look what mommy made!" She instantly had a mischievous smirk on her face, ran over and smooshed it.
Seriously, every damn castle.
I quickly gave up and decided to have a seat and relax while Summer played. I made the mistake of feeding one, stupid seagull and pistachio and suddenly the alert signal went out to every seagull within a 5 mile radius.
Wee-ooh, wee-ooh, some weird lady and her spawn are down here with food! It's the middle of winter, everyone get down here while supplies last!
I never learn about the fucking wildlife.
They swooped down upon us, pooping and screaming like a plague upon our heads. Summer looked mildly interested, pointed and screamed, "Mama! Caw, caw!"
I screamed back, "duck and cover! They'll peck your eyeballs out!"
I zipped up the bag, threw my pistachio shells away from me and scooped up my baby. We took a walk down the beach and when we were a little ways away I looked back, in hopes that one of them had choked on a shell. No such luck. They had our bag surrounded. All was lost. I hoped silently that they wouldn't eat my keys.
We had our bucket and I decided to let Summer run our stroll. Toddler pace is tedious, but it seemed important to me to just be in the moment today. We picked up shells and sticks and various sizes of rocks.
I had stopped to throw a rock in the water and looked over just in time to see Summer on her knees with my 24 oz coffee cup filled to the brim with sand, trying to chug it like water.
I yelled to spit it out and she glanced over to me casually and opened her mouth, I had to scrape all the sand off her tongue.
She is disgusting.
We turned around and on the way back she noticed that my feet made prints, and, would you look at that? Hers made prints too.
She was immediately enthralled and promptly scooped up every foot print either of us made. It made for a long walk back, but every step was adorable.
The seagulls had laid waste to our towels and pistachio shells and looked like they tried to peck a bit at our bag but, thank goodness, did not eat my keys.
We went into a little cafe at the marina and got some fries and a grilled cheese. I made the mistake of giving Summer apple juice before the meal and she didn't eat a bite.
We mulled over our lunch and looked out the window, enjoying the PNWs finest scenery and I reveled in this moment. Time passes quickly without realizing it's passing, the small moments are when you get the biggest joys. That day with Summer at the beach will forever be a sweetly sad day for me. A cherished memory that I listened to something bigger and I'm so glad I did.
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