It's good to be home. We've all grown a bit this trip - the boys are bigger and, well, different. S and I learned a bit more about each other and got to spend some time alone on my birthday - my mom and sister agreed to watch the littles overnight while we enjoyed some adult time here, where we met up with my BFF Lo. Speaking of birthdays, I am now 43. And it feels good.
J adored the ocean and on his first day rushed into the waves with arms outstretched proclaiming to the world HEYSHHHH! The beach thrilled him to no end - he couldn't get enough of it. Z, on the other hand, clung to me and wailed whenever I tried to dip his toes in the clear, warm, beautiful water, crying often and being uncomfortable in the sun. His idea of fun was the boardwalk, where the lights and smell of funnel cakes and sounds had him upright in his stroller, begging to get out and explore things up close. Smacky bonded with the sand and spent most of his time pushing toy construction trucks around and carting buckets of water to fill the moats he'd make every day with his cousin Daniel, who, if you ask Smacky, walks on water and must be emulated at every opportunity.
We watched a fisherman catch a baby sand shark and felt its sandpaper skin. We caught starfish and sandcrabs and fiddler crabs, threw them back and then made sandcastles and then destroyed them. We ate fried fish, broiled fish, steamed fish and had ice cream every night. We watched the olympics and peed our pants while playing Balderdash. We rode the rides and played arcade crane games and ski ball. We golfed (miniature, of course), shopped, went to the zoo and rode bikes and ate outside. It was a blast. But the highlight of the vacation, hands down, was this. If you've never been to an air show (which I hadn't until now), I urge you to find one and get yourself there. Pronto. There is nothing like it. S asked me if I felt any testosterone when the F22 Raptors put on their afterburners and the answer is a resounding YES. Those are some badass planes people. The boys loved every deafening minute of the show. You read about these jets and see them on tv and the fact is you have no idea how amazing they are until they're flying 300 yards away from you.
So after yesterday's eight hour trafficky ride, we're home now. And settling in. It's good to be back in our own bed. There is work to be done and a garageful of bags to be cleaned and organized and put away. The twins are running and climbing and are relentless. When he's not asking when he can go back to school, Smacky is asking when we can go back to the beach house. S is already planning his flurry of September business trips to faraway lands. And I'm just trying to feed everyone and get some laundry done. But it's good. It's nice. Things are better. Things are way better.