there is only sand where sand shouldn't go. . .

We took advantage of the beautiful weather this past weekend and headed to the beach. Since it was fore casted to be in the 80's. . .even in Maine. . .and Bill was booked at a weekend-long class. . .it was the perfect excuse to go. My folks, Cole and I spent the night at the Union Bluff Hotel in York Beach. . and all had a great time!

It seems no matter what I'm telling you about our week, I have a "duh" moment. Here's this week's. . .

I can no longer sit on the beach in a cute bikini and cute sunglasses and cute hat reading a magazine. Duh! Did I really have to attempt it with a 14 month old to realize those days of a childless and carefree sunning beauty are gone? Apparently. I don't think it ever occurred to me what a day at the beach would be now with Cole. It's definitely not what I'm describing above.

It's more like this. . .

We put sand in a bucket. . .

And more sand in a bucket. . .

Then we put sand in our mouth. . .

Then some sand on our legs. . .

And back in the bucket. . .

And then we throw some at mom. . . (there's no picture of this but trust me that it happened)

But then we give mom the I'm-sorry-I-threw-sand-at-you-aren't-I-so-cute? face. . .

Then we go back to the hotel room and eat toast on the floor.

There is no cat-napping in the sun. There is no leisurely walks along the boardwalk to grab a refreshing alcoholic beverage. There is no Banana Boat Dark Tanning Oil. There is only sand in your mouth. . .which is bizarre. . .since I don't like eating sand. I also don't like sand in places that sand shouldn't be. Which, incidentally, with a 14 month old. . .is everywhere.

So I learned a little lesson and Cole had a blast. When I wasn't running after him trying to get him to stop "sharing" his buckets of sand with other unsuspecting children. . .I was watching him trying to figure out this crazy beach thing.

Yes, I took a video. . .