Buckets of Fun

Eleven months ago, I wrote a handful of posts detailing our first family vacation to Hilton Head. The following few paragraphs may read/sound redundant but I promise you, nothing can be further from redundant than a 23 month's old deep giggle and wide smile against the background of relentless surf crashing in on broken shells and sand.

After sharing his Nana's yogurt and his Mama's omelette, we took 20-30 steps before our bronzed toes hit the sand. There are more than a few clues to Pierce's imminent OCD but one HUGE tell, is when he says "uh oh", points to his tiny tevas, looks up at me with trepidation painted all over his face because sand has clinged to his toes.

His obsesession with lining his blocks up semi-perfectly is matched only by his curiousity with the waves constantly rolling up the shore and receding back into the horizon. Part of the natural high that comes with being a parent is trying to imagine your two year old's thought process, re-living the first time you ever saw salt water collide with a shoreline.

I don't remember the first time I saw it and I'm sure that P won't either but with the help of this blog, my journal and a lifetime of healthy living, I'll remember this trip and Pierce's grin, ear to ear as he held on to my fingers like he was crossing monkey bars, I walked him in to the gulf and we swam out sixty feet further than his mom was comfortable with, his arms wrapped like a burmese python around my neck, excited but uneasy.

After taking a cresting wave right in the kisser, it was time for us to head to the beach towels, eat string cheese, sip on apple juice and reapply the all important 70 spf. After snack time, we headed back down to where the very tip of the ocean reached before being sucked back in to the sky. P liked sitting in between Daddy's V and watching the water pool up and roll back. His favorite activity involved tossing a shell three or four feet out and witnessing the ocean deliver it back to him, this exuded DEEP GIGGLES.

We practiced that excercise for about thirty minutes before returning to the towels. It was there, that we embarked on a journey that every father must have with his son, the building of the sand castle. At this point, it might be more fun for Dad than for son but either way we both thouroughly enjoyed packing sand and broken shells in to a plastic mold. Pierce's favorite part was taking his Mom back to the water and fill the bucket to the top. Truth be told, he lost interest after four or five trips, the castle walls were only half built, the guard towers were not even started (this is what I was talking about re-living your childhood) and the moat not filled. It was nap time.

Who knows the number of families that the passing tide has bared witness to the exact same scenario occuring. After dinner we walked out to see that our sand castle had been infiltrated/claimed by the tide with no trace left except for this written record.

Master Architect: Ashleigh Hernandez

My experiences are new to me. The lessons learned are probably not new to you. Most of the time, I'm just working out the Silver and Black Lining.