Friday, 8 August 2014

The Beach

Living in the UK, I wouldn't exactly preach to the world that this is the best place for a beach holiday, but as beaches go, I'd say I live near the most well known. Sandbanks.

Fast cars, huge houses, fully booked restaurants. There's no hiding that it's gorgeous!

I, on the other hand, hate beaches. Everything about them. Sand. Bleurgh. Cold water. Bleurgh. Crowds of people. Bleurgh. But I'm a sucker for a view, and there's no hiding, beaches are beautiful.

Theo's 9 months old, and he's never properly been to the beach. They say don't push your dislikes or your fears onto your children. I'm not sure I've been the best at this!

My best friend calls me and we get an invite to head on down. Perfect time for me. After 6:30pm, less people!

He is every bit his mother's child. We lose his Sophie the Giraffe on the walk down there, I've forgotten his dummy so he's screaming at the top of his lungs, I try to put his feet in the sand and they're up by his chin before I know it, the blanket flips over and completely envelops him, and his face is so scrunched up, his eyes are practically closed.

So there's me, my screaming baby and my Canon 1100d. Amateur photography is an understatement. The only thing I didn't manage to capture was the bums of a perfectly chiseled family, walking off into the distance the moment we settled.

What I've learnt is that I can go to the beach and clear enough space for me to be happy just by allowing my son to cry full blown.

Mum, are you for real?



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