As a family, we did battle with the Ever-Changing Stomach Virus–really, nobody had quite the same manifestation–over the past five days or so, and we have emerged victorious. No appetites, but everyone’s intact.
Increased viral load meant, of course, much too much time inside. So on this warm, sunny, summer-like afternoon we headed to the beach.
No matter. The water was temperate; much warmer than just three weeks ago.
The world is her oyster.
Filling the watering can with a shovel. I don’t know why. It makes him happy, so I don’t ask too many questions.
Beach towel. Being used for its intended purpose.
Once again, I feel lucky to be here. To live 30km away from a clean, beautiful, lifeguarded beach with cheap parking and kosher popsicles. To give my kids the chance to dig in the sand and collect shells and turn cartwheels and make castles and use their imaginations.*
This makes me a little bit crazy, but this paragraph makes me sad: “Many kindergartners in his community, [a Westchester, NY, elementary school principal] said, have taken music appreciation classes or participated in adult-led sports teams or yoga. And most have also logged serious time in front of a television or a computer screen. But very few have had unlimited opportunities to run, jump and skip, or make mud pies and break twigs. ‘I’m all for academic rigor,’ he said, ‘but these days I tell parents that letting their child mold clay, play in the sand or build with Play-Doh builds important school-readiness skills, too.'”
School ready? Sure. But also ready to just be. To feel the sun, the water, the sand, the wind.
* I did this in the United States, too, but never in April. And never packing only one snack.