Bad Word Mama!: My Life is a Beach

My whole life, when I needed to go to my "Happy Place", it was always the beach. I love the salty smell of the water, the breeze that forces me to breath through my nose and relax. The sounds of the waves crashing. Damn, just writing it relaxes me.

When Chris and I decided to move here, what excited me the most was the beach. Although, I was very surprised to find out how close we were. If you ask me if it's less than two hours away, then that close. No, we don't live on the beach.. YET!! When we get older and kids are moved out, that is where I will retire.

We are only 10 to 20 minutes from the beach, depending on traffic.

So, we live near the beach we go at least twice a month... I still love it, but it doesn't relax me the way I thought it would. I think I'm more relaxed thinking about it then I am while I'm there.

I think I figured out why...

Actually, two reasons..

1. Emilie
2. Andrew

Yep, they basically forced themselves into my happy place and tore the shit up. While in my happy place I sit in my chair facing the ocean and close my eyes and just be.

When I'm forced to bring them to my happy place, there is constant bitching about something.
Emilie will only go into the water up to her ankles and Andrew, he won't go 10 feet near the surf.

Emilie:
"Mommy, can you walk down the beach with me and pick up shells?"
"Can you help me get the sand out of my ass crack?"
(Well, she doesn't say "ass crack" or I would smack her on the ass.)
"I'm bored, can I bury you in the sand?"

Andrew:
"Mommy, my hands are dirty."
"I want to fish."

Andrew likes to throw shells into the water, although it's very hard for him to do that, he doesn't throw very far and like I said before, he won't even get that close to the water. He usually ends up knocking me upside the head with one.
"Damnit kids, I'm in my freaking happy place!"

While trying to tune out the voices and bitching that never existed in my happy place before. I sit in my chair ready to relax. Even though I refused to be buried in the sand, it's flying all over me, in my hair on my blasted happy chair. I look behind me and Andrew is digging in the sand like a dog and throwing it all my way. UGH!!!!

The damn bandits who talk too much in my happy place, make me get up and walk or do whatever they want to do (except bury me in the sand) just to keep them quiet.
So, I'm up and walking down the beach picking up shells, I of course love to watch people as well. There are only a couple things that make me stop in my tracks and watch.
A family of tourists or a overweight Dad in the ocean with their kids and Dad keeps getting knocked down by the waves. I can't help but laugh! I'm sorry, that is just too freaking funny!

The other thing is surfers! It's hard to see their faces, but those wet suits are what really catch my eye!

Not thinking about what his face looks like right now!

As we walk back to the area of the beach that we claimed our's for the afternoon. "What the hell, someone is in my happy chair! Oh hell no!!

Well, at least he's a cutie!

Without much force I get Andrew out of my chair and sit down to relax from my walk. I look out in front of me and see Chris in his happy place. Man, that shit is not fair.. the kids are too damn scared to go out into the water to bug him. I'm not a fan of the creepy crawlers that dwell in that water, I usually stay on the beach as well.

Just, as I get comfortable, breathe in relaxation, exhale noise and everything else that followed me here.
Time to get up again, Andrew wants me to take pictures of him on the sand dune.

Okay, picture done, I run back to my chair to find Chris complaining that the fishing isn't working out like he thought it would. Okay? So?

"Time to go." Chris states.
"What the mother corn dog lovin' people!"

Fine, I'll just go home and dream about how I can come here all by myself one day.