This Ain't Bay Watch, Baby
We went to the beach today. Beach days are always fun. Well, after you discount the fact that I have to put my big, flabby postpartum ass in a suit and then be surrounded by firm bods of steel attached to 18 year old, wrinkle-free faces. Blech. Oh, and you have to discount too the nagging fear of getting a clogged duct from smashing my enormous 40-I cup breasts into a tight bathing suit designed to perk me up a bit. And the nursing on the beach. That's always a bummer. What with the sand and the salt water and the beach towel blowing off my shoulder revealing to all those bods of steel my mama juice udders.
But it was fun. Fun for the two year old. She had a blast. The poor baby got the short end of the stick. I forgot to pack his UV protection suit. My kids are like their daddy in that they are the whitest people you've ever seen. They really are in the wrong geographic area for their skin tone. People that fair should never venture farther south than Dubuque, Iowa. Not only for their skin's protection, but for the occular protection of others. That white skin really glares in the hot, hot sun. If you're not prepared for my husband to take his shirt off and you look directly at him, you could burn out a retina. No kidding.
Anyway, so the baby didn't have his suit and I had to slather him top to bottom with an SPF50 and then keep him covered by towels and hats and the like. He was hot and cranky. I actually brought a little sun tent with us. My mom gave it to us for the kids. I took it out of its little carrying bag and instantly the thing sprang open. At that very instant a nice gust of trade wind swooped upon us and the damn tent took flight. I had to run after it to catch it. Me. In a bathing suit. Running. This was no Bay Watch scene. Trust me. In fact, all I could hear in my head was that Jello commercial "Watch it wiggle. See it jiggle."
After several feeble attempts at getting the tent to stay put and serve its purpose, I resigned myself to holding it in place. This lasted till Mike and Reilly came up out of the water and Mike took over the holding duties as I attempted to nurse the baby. In Mike's words, we looked like "The Swiss Family Losers."
Reilly Kate had a blast, though. She really dug the sand. In fact, she discovered she likes to eat sand, throw it at others, and even dump whole buckets of it in her own face. Sand. I am quite certain I will be brushing it out of her hair for weeks. Perhaps we might even have enough to make our own beach, in the back yard. Minus, of course, the bods of steel.
But it was fun. Fun for the two year old. She had a blast. The poor baby got the short end of the stick. I forgot to pack his UV protection suit. My kids are like their daddy in that they are the whitest people you've ever seen. They really are in the wrong geographic area for their skin tone. People that fair should never venture farther south than Dubuque, Iowa. Not only for their skin's protection, but for the occular protection of others. That white skin really glares in the hot, hot sun. If you're not prepared for my husband to take his shirt off and you look directly at him, you could burn out a retina. No kidding.
Anyway, so the baby didn't have his suit and I had to slather him top to bottom with an SPF50 and then keep him covered by towels and hats and the like. He was hot and cranky. I actually brought a little sun tent with us. My mom gave it to us for the kids. I took it out of its little carrying bag and instantly the thing sprang open. At that very instant a nice gust of trade wind swooped upon us and the damn tent took flight. I had to run after it to catch it. Me. In a bathing suit. Running. This was no Bay Watch scene. Trust me. In fact, all I could hear in my head was that Jello commercial "Watch it wiggle. See it jiggle."
After several feeble attempts at getting the tent to stay put and serve its purpose, I resigned myself to holding it in place. This lasted till Mike and Reilly came up out of the water and Mike took over the holding duties as I attempted to nurse the baby. In Mike's words, we looked like "The Swiss Family Losers."
Reilly Kate had a blast, though. She really dug the sand. In fact, she discovered she likes to eat sand, throw it at others, and even dump whole buckets of it in her own face. Sand. I am quite certain I will be brushing it out of her hair for weeks. Perhaps we might even have enough to make our own beach, in the back yard. Minus, of course, the bods of steel.
posted by The Histrionics of a Fat Housewife at 3:05 AM
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