On a beeeeeautiful Friday morning, I got a wild hair & decided I was going to take my children, my new puppy, and my sick BFF's daughter to the beach. By myself. "Of course I can do it. How hard can it be?" I thought to myself as I packed everything up. My confidence level began sinking the moment the first tantrum started- in the beach parking lot. I ignored that first warning sign and lugged everyone and everything down to the shore. Thankfully, we saw our friends Andrea, Jonah, Jackson, and Clay. Reinforcements, I thought to myself. Jonah and Jackson, Andrea and Clay's little boys, played with Bella and Squeege in the tidal pools. Andrea and I chased after the 4 toddlers while one of us was holding Garrett and the other was holding Gracie's leash. After about 45 minutes of nonstop, nuclear-level chaos, I raised the white flag and decided to call it a day. After wrangling up my herd and all of their junk, I spent the next 30 minutes hosing two screaming toddlers off in the ice-cold beach showers. So much fun. I wish I could do it every day. I then loaded the naked children up and took them to Wendy's for some chicken nuggets. Hunger crisis averted. We got back home, Squeege hosed off our beach stuff, and then I threw the kids into the bathtub for a more thorough rinsing-off. How did this drag race of a day end? My BFF's daughter Bella pooped in the tub. I laugh now, because it's funny and cute and straight out of an episode of some random family sitcom.
I had originally planned this day as one continuous photo-op. Little did I know that it is a near impossibility to photograph the chaos that I experienced in that one short period of time. This is the only photo I got from that day (and yes, this is Pre-Poop):
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