The Beach

The beach was alright. I mean, it could have been better I guess. I get really snotty when there is a lot of wind. I remember when Dear Sir and I were on our honeymoon out in the Oregon Coast and we decided one extremely windy day to go to the ocean (it was too cold to enjoy the beach). We saw this really pretty spot on the side of a spirally road and decided we would go and just stand by the water. I had some cramps when I got out of the car and didn't know what that was about until we battled our way (and I mean BATTLED our way) through the whipping wind and sand to get to our destination. It was like we were going in slow motion it was so preposterous, the wind. I was toddling over and trying my best to stand up, it was so bad. Every step was sort of torturous, but we thought it would pay off in the end with a camera in hand. Whatever. So, once we got to the perfect spot (it took us an eternity) the cramping was so incredible and I knew what it was all about immediately. I looked at Dear Sir fiercely. "I have to go to the bathroom!" I shouted through the whipping sand.
"What?!" Dear Sir shouted, cupping his ear.
"I HAVE TO GO TO THE BATHROOM!" I yelled as loud as I could. My embarrassment was unbearable.
"WE JUST GOT HERE! NOW?!" He yelled.
"YES!"
I was in trouble. I had to successfully walk through that stupid wind and sand again to get to the car. It was like a snow storm. And I had to do it without the safety of a diaper or the safety of someone who I was used to, in case an accident occurred.
Somehow I made it. I don't know how. I think the idea of having an accident was far too much for me even to imagine so it pulled me through. I tried not to writhe around in the car as we took forever to get to the cabin we were staying at. It was sort of a nightmare. I imagine all the guy thought of me at the time was that I had to make trips to the bathroom endlessly. On our way to the coast right after the wedding I demanded that he stop somewhere so I could go to the bathroom. I think I drank too much Sprite in the car. I was about to burst and he was shaking his head with a smirk on his face.

So, the beach was alright. The nasty port-a-pottys were very near, so I was in good shape. I neglected to put very much sun screen on the kids the first day so they are still aching and I continuously say I am sorry still. When we were about to leave yesterday I got dressed in the port-a-potty (I had to get the kids dressed there too before the ride home) and as I was walking out with bags and piles of clothes in hand, I slipped in the water from the showering people on this little dock and slipped and fell on my side. I have bruises on my arm and leg. I am sort of a mess. Then, I drove home because Dear Sir was tired of driving and I offered, and I almost killed us a few times because I guess I have discovered I am not so great of a driver. Or maybe I get nervous whenever a man is in the passenger's seat. My Dad really messed me up as far as confidence goes in the driving area. Then we thought we got lost but then we really weren't lost. It took us a long time to get home and the kids were AWESOME. Not a peep or complaint from them.

I got home expecting Tolstoy (our fish) to be dead, but he was just hungry. I got everything inside (with help from everyone) and unpacked.

The beach was very pretty though, and we came home with two huge buckets full of shells.