I love the beach! I grew up there. My Dad was a surfer and I was a very proud ‘Nipperette’. With all the wading races, the flags races, the yellow and black nipper cap and matching cossies; sand between your toes and filling the gusset in your cossies (apparently the younger you are the more sand you can get in there… !)
So you can imagine how important it was that my small people be part-mermaid. OK, I should quickly add that I’m not a ‘hot-housing’ type Mum. No, not at all. But teaching my kids how to play in the waves safely is pretty important. So we chose a pretty, calm beach and away we went. I’d hoped they ‘d love it but had no idea that the unbridled enthusiasm of the eldest would instantly eclipse mine the moment her foot fell on sand.
From the moment we arrived it was sheer chaos. Like an overwound wind-up toy she was off; an insanely happy three year old magnetically drawn to churning water, marooned stingy jellyfish, broken glass, you name it… drawn to them at stomach churning speed. A blur up and down the beach. The seagulls never stood a chance. Our relaxed walk along the waters edge, our magnificent sandcastles, our yummy picnic… none of it stood a chance. The most relaxing part of the trip was the moment we strapped her back into her car seat. Whereupon she instantly ‘crashed’, still smiling.
We live and learn. : )