Yesterday I took the girls to the beach. It was 5 moms and 8 kids, all between the ages of 5 and 2, plus my pregnant belly. Between the moms, the kids, beach bags, sand toys, 3 umbrellas, 5 beach chairs, and 2 and a half coolers, we must have looked hysterical. I love going to the beach because it's such a calming, relaxing thing, even with kids. They don't need to be in the water every minute because the sand is so entertaining. And luckily my girls behaved GREAT! I was in love with them when I saw what the other moms had to deal with. Not to say that any of the kids behaved badly, but my girls are more independent. Whenever I take them somewhere they are very content to do their own thing and enjoy themselves. I don't get spoken to unless it's for basic survival needs...food, drink, bathroom :-)
Unfortunately, within 20 minutes of being at the beach one of the curious kids picked up a Portuguese Man of War, another touched it and then touched her face, and one of them accidentally touched one of the boys on the stomach with it. Not fun for them. Luckily it wasn't my kids, but I felt really bad for the 3 of them that had to deal with that. It was really crazy for about 40 minutes.
To help Kayla understand what happened I compared the situation to the scene in Finding Nemo where the father and Dory had to bounce on top of the jelly fish. She couldn't remember the name of the jelly fish that stung her friends so she kept calling it a "man of armor".
What I hate about the beach is the clean up part. Sand sticks to kids like glue. By the time I got home, fed the kids and scrubbed the crap out of them and their scalps it was 10pm. I put them to bed and Kayla says, "Good night, I love you, sleep tight, don't let the suit of armor sting you!" LOL, she really does crack me up.