Since we live half an hour from the beach, you would think we would frequent it much more than we actually do. After several beach trips, I find myself thinking that I am not a big beach person. I like it once I am there, but driving out there, finding a parking space, and then hauling thirty pounds of beach chairs, beach umbrellas, towels, sand toys, a picnic basket, boogie boards and water bottles, not to mention a small child, is exhausting.
Our ward does a weekly beach day. Not wanting to brave the beach with two children and no husband, I did not attend. Suddenly seized by an adventurous spirit, I decided we would go this week. I tried to only pack priority stuff. We ate lunch right before we went. We went early to find a parking space.
Alas, I got so lost, so by the time we found the right beach, we were ten minutes late. I couldn't find a good parking space and had to park down the street. I put the baby in the sling, then lugged everything to the beach while trying to encourage mt preschooler to walk at something faster than a snail's pace.
We made it! Out of breath, I dumped all the stuff, then set up our little camp. The trek had left Ash thirsty. I happily produced her spill-proof children water bottle from my bag and handed it over. She took one sip, then accidentally dropped it in the sand, covering the mouthpiece. I hadn't brought more water. She was still thirsty. She started to cry.
This is why I'm not a beach person.