Saturday, January 01, 2011

Life's a Beach

Happy New Year! I know I won't be the only one glad to see the back of 2010.

At this point I usually do a little round-up of the past year, but, having just spent a few days revisiting it all, I don't think I'll make you suffer through it. Last year in brief reads like a whiny collection of disasters. I sound bitter and frustrated, and however cathartic it is to write things like 'f&*$ you Santa Barbara' it doesn't really make good reading.

Instead I will take the advice of a friend of mine and celebrate the fact that against all odds, we're still here. What are the chances.

It's got to get better, right?

Well, actually no, but 2011 will definitely be a turning-point. It's going to be interesting.

The girls on the other hand are a constant source of amusement. As my Mum said "well, that was a bit of an adventure". She was describing a walk on the beach. We set off for a lovely New Years Eve walk, the double stroller piled high with pillow pets, blankets, snacks, drinks etc. We didn't look so much like a family out for an afternoon, more like we were fleeing an insurrection. If you have any knowledge of spending time with under 5s though, you'll know how critical that stuff is. Here is a picture of Lucy when we got down the 7,200 steps to the beach:

Being Lucy, having arrived at the beach, she wanted to go back up the stairs. She is a bit of a contrarion that girl. After successfully persuading her on the delights of a really low tide, she raced into a tidepool. Fully clothed.

Here she is minus her sodden shoes and tights. And Anna's outfit? Her dress sense is on a strictly don't ask don't tell basis these days.

She looks like Frank Sinatra in the 1940s with her skirt pulled up to her nipples.

Anyhoo. So Lucy got wet feet, but, undeterred she then raced headlong into yet another, even deeper tidepool, discovered that forward momentum causes problems when your feet are going slower than your head, and promptly swan-dived.

I don't know what it is about Lucy and complete submersion in 3 inches of water. She is obviously intent on mastering it.

Fortunately we had packed for such things, ish, and within minutes she was stripped and bundled in blankets and my Dad's sweatshirt:

Apparently feeling like her sister was getting too much attention, Anna was soon center stage. Do you notice that unicorn she's clutching in her hand?

Well, moments after we'd got Lucy bundled up, a rather hyper dalmation mix made a bee-line for Anna, grabbed 'Mystic' from her hand and made off down the beach with it.

The fact that we were traveling with two unicorns (Mystic and a unicorn pillow pet) may give you some idea of how much Anna loves unicorns. She will not be parted from them. Unless of course she is parted with them, and then her eyes get as wide as saucers and you can literally see her heart stop beating.

It was a mad few minutes of chasing that bloody dog up and down the beach while his owner (who had ski poles??) tried to get him to obey commands. With about as much success as I have with Lucy.

We finally did get Mystic back, at which point Lucy decided she'd had enough of wanting to be cozy in the stroller, that was much too restrictive, especially when everyone looked to be having so much fun chasing that doggy. She decided she'd much rather brave the 50º and dropping ocean breeze in only a diaper. So this happened.

Well, that was an adventure!!

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