When THIS is the view driving down, you KNOW it's gotta be good, you know?
And then, you know how I feel about the whole jungle-leading-right-up-to-the-water thang. LOVE IT. So when we parked and walked through a little jungle right out to the sand...I was in heaven.
|Notice the absence of Warren? He's ALREADY crying and hanging on my legs.|
|So I shoved him away to be in the picture. Tough love. That's how I roll.|
Four feet from the jungle? Check. Three feet from water? Check. Maybe all this time I've spent thinking I hate Guam, I really loved it?
First, we played in the sand. It was 82 degrees, and there was a slight, warm breeze. In Guam, that is FREEZING. So we had to warm up for a little while.
|MAN! I love those thunder thights!!!|
Daisy June's big brothers were sweet enough to let her sit near them while they played. They're well-mannered like that.
Then, she discovered the wonder of BEACH TOYS. Which actually isn't the disaster you might think, because alls Scott wants to do at the beach is dig a hole. So he doesn't care who's playing with the toys.
|Daisy. That's not a good look for you.|
After we finally got our temps up, we headed for the water. And by "we" I mean "everyone but me." That water was COLD! Probably like 79 degrees!!
|Uh, what is he doing?|
Then Ava and Daddy went exploring for a bit. Warren was going to go, but he needed to come back and cry instead. Scott just wanted to dig his hole.
All right, don't call CPS. I grabbed my camera when I saw that Daisy was going to make her way down to the water's edge. I was NOT disappointed. The top picture, she's JUST made it to the wet sand, from when the waves make it to shore. Then, on the bottom picture, she figures out just HOW all that sand got wet :)
About ten minutes after we got there, this is what Warren did. I guess I can't complain, at least he understands that when he's tired, he needs to go to sleep. So he does.
|He slept for about two hours. We were there for about two and a half.|
All right. Now, I'm not trying to be offensive here, but come on, you know how you can see a first time mom at the beach? Like, you can spot her from a mile off? She's got the pack and play, two coolers, a mini fridge and a generator to keep her pumped breast milk cold? She's got four quilts, all laid out so the baby doesn't get sandy, but she never manages to put him down anyway? She brings everything they've got in their fridge that morning, plus a first aid kit that contains everything a paramedic would stock in his ambulance? Just in case? She's got the prortable swing, and four changes of 9000UPF long sleeved, long pants bathing suits? Plus seven different hats?
And then, you've got the lady with her fourth kid. She takes the kid's jammie pants off, doesn't bother with a swim diaper, sprays some sunscreen in the kid's general direction, takes pics as the kid eats sand, lets the kid feed herself a probably-not-very-sanitized bottle, then lays her on her cover-up for a siesta because her three year old brother stole her paci and her stroller for his own nap?
I'm ETERNALLY grateful that Nick wasn't a typical first time parent. Because even with Ava, I was NOT like that. Not that there's ANYTHING wrong with those people, they just REALLY love their babies and want them to be safe, but COME ON! I just never felt that way, even about Ava, and I'm SO grateful. Did I already say that?
Anyway. That was our Saturday morning. So awesome. The beach was gorgeous, the water was breathtaking, it was semi-deep, and there were outrageous waves. Scott had a BLAST, and despite this last picture, so did Ava.