Categories: uncategorized
Date: 01 July 2007 01:26:29
Mama's birthday was last Saturday. She would have been 66.
That day I decided it was time for Dylan's first trip to the beach.
Having waited until I was 15 to see the beach for the first time (on a trip to N.C. with Mama when I was 15, we stopped in Biloxi just so I could see it), I wanted to make sure Dylan didn't have to wait so long.
Jeff agreed to come but he was about as enthusiastic as a root canal patient. He was extra grumpy due to his chronic insomnia and a crummy week at work. He said not to pack him a towel, he wasn't going to swim and didn't own a bathing suit.
Dylan was originally eager to go to the beach, but I think Jeff's mood was spreading, and halfway there (it's an hour drive), he changed his mind and started whining that he didn't want to go to the beach and he doesn't like the beach (although he'd never been, mind you).
By then I was grumpy too and muttering that next time I'd go to the beach by myself.
Then oddly, Dylan commented out of nowhere, "Maman's dead." It had been a month or so since he had mentioned her.
When we got to the beach, it took Jeff about 5 minutes to pull his shirt off and swim in his shorts and underwear. It took Dylan about 5 minutes to try getting into the water, and then we couldn't keep him out for long. He'd come out and start a sand castle, then suddenly leap up and say, "I'm going back in the water!" and we'd have to chase after him. He doesn't know how to swim, but with his floaty, he seem to have the most fun venturing to where his toes could no longer touch.
In the end I think we were all glad we went. Dylan was energized by his trip. Not only did he not nap, but I think he stayed up til 10:30. So much for swimming tiring children out.
Love,
Jolene