I just got back from a long weekend at the beach, and I had fun! Some of you may be thinking, "Well, DUH!" but to me this is a big deal. Last year when we took a family trip there it was almost more work than fun. This year we had a blast, and my children seemed almost, dare I say, normal?
Let's rewind to a year ago. My youngest was still drinking from a bottle, sometimes still taking 2 naps a day, and both he and his older brother were still in diapers. Things were further complicated by the fact that one child was overly fascinated by the sand, the other terrified by it. Percy sat and ate sand by the handfuls, while his poor older brother Thomas wandered around, crying, trying to walk without his feet actually touching the sand, muttering to himself, "Dirty, dirty..."
Thomas was also terrified of the waves, and refused to let even one toe touch the water. He preferred to be at the pool, while Percy preferred to be at the beach. Actually, Percy preferred to be running away at the beach, in a straight line as far down the shoreline as he possibly could. We finally dug a huge hole in the sand and placed him in it, which kept him in one place but encouraged his strange eating habits. Needless to say we didn't actually get a lot of playing accomplished that year. Even though we had the help of family my husband and I were constantly separated, each dealing with a different child and their different needs. It was exhausting.
This year we were better prepared and the children were older, plus they had been taking swim lessons. The day we arrived we headed straight to the beach. As we approached the water I wondered how the children would react. Both boys immediately waded in and began to laugh with delight. My husband and his mother held the boys' hands while they leaped over the waves, squealing. I watched this sight and my heart swelled up with joy as I fought back tears. It was a wonderful sight.
It was such a good weekend. We built sand castles (even Thomas!) and Percy only ate the sand that was accidentally on his food. We went for long walks (not runs) down the beach and collected seashells. Percy wandered around visiting the blankets of random people and stared at girls in bikinis. His Dad helped. Thomas gleefully chased away any seagulls that ventured too close to us. The boys were finally old enough to really play with their cousins, and they were so cute together. Plus my husband and I got to go out to dinner together, alone, one night, and even walked on the beach holding each other. I actually relaxed. We all had fun. It was a good weekend.
The image is forever burned in my memory, that first moment down in the waves. It was such a blessing to me to see my usually fearful Thomas having so much fun in the midst of a potentially frightening situation. The anxiety that so often plagues him seemed so far away. Little Percy was also so happy, so engaged, and he seemed anything BUT autistic. They were just two little boys, playing in the ocean, enjoying their family, and I was their happy mother, relaxing and watching them with gratitude and joy.
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Original source: http://lifeasaplatypus.wordpress.com/?p=271
