As vowed, here are some pictures from our first trip of the year to St. George Island. (Aaron posted a lot of these to Facebook, but the blog medium allows me to indulge and post the same picture with multiple expressions.)
Aaron is getting Clara revved up for some sandcastle making. I will remember the days fondly when Clara always had some kind of self-applied bandaid on her legs.
During the great sandcastle construction, William thought it would be perfect timing to snag a sip of Clara’s Powerade.
We did a lot of feet-burying.
Also, lots of strolling along, looking for shells. (And, I know what the grandmas and Aunt Sam might be thinking: where are those kids’ hats? Well, I found them today, during the great summer clean-up, but no worries—we weren’t there for long and all of our scalps and appendages are still reassuringly pale.)
Someone likes the camera . . .
It takes us twenty minutes to set-up our beach site and twenty to tear it all down. We’re constantly rinsing sand off drinks and little hands. I’m paranoid I missed a spot with sunscreen. I always bring a book that I never, ever read. Still, it took a second child, but I feel converted. This was my favorite beach trip ever, even with all the smashed blueberries that William tried to eat and all the times Clara pranced on my clean blanket with her sandy, wet feet. Right now, we’re swimming in love; the kids can’t get enough of us. We spent minutes and minutes and minutes sitting where the waves hit the sand. We stopped for ice cream and napped on the way home. Clara sang us the ABC’s fifty times. It’s a good life.