I was tired all day today and groggy and fighting a cold so when I got The Bun from school, we came home and did laundry and the kids did crafts and I read a book and got increasingly more sleepy until finally I made them stuff their feet into boots and I dragged them (under protest) down to the beach and we walked. I decided to let them determine where we'd go and how far and it turned out they wanted to just sit right down in the sand within view of the house. But once in the fresh air, I actually wanted to walk so I bribed them to go further. Bribery is the sharpest tool in my motherhood bag but mostly I use a barbed sort of bribe in the form of a veiled threat, something along the lines of, "If you don't get up and keep walking, you'll go to bed an hour earlier tomorrow."
Anyway when they finally got going, they didn't want to stop and we ended up scaling this cliff-like trail at the end of the beach, which was pretty awesomely terrifying as both of them were holding on to treasures (wet feathers, broken glass) and refused to make use of their hands for balance and the trail was steep and ended in craggy rocks and deep water. We made it to the top, obviously, or I'd be typing something more like O M G I DROPPED THE KIDS IN THE SEA!
After walking for a while further, we found a bench and The Bun announced that he'd handily brought a stuffy for each of them to hold SPECIFICALLY on THIS EXACT BENCH -- like he'd known it was the destination all along! -- and they sat side by side on the bench and watched the sky go pink, clutching their stuffies, and it was almost painfully sweet. I can't tell you. Trust me when I say you have to -- HAVE TO -- capture these moments because if you don't then the next time they start clobbering each other with weapons they've constructed out of Lego and a shoelace in the back of the car while you're barrelling down a freeway and cannot stop to tie their hands behind their backs, you won't remember how they really are angels or at least occasionally angelic and not really the devil's spawn, and you might scream at them instead of just simply blocking them out by turning the volume on the stereo up louder than is healthy for their developing ears.
Then they said, "Let's pretend this rock is one of us and see if it sinks!" and then they chucked a huge rock off the cliff and I nearly fainted from terror because my brain easily edited each of them in turn into the splash, even though they were relatively still safe on the bench.
That's actually the whole story. This is almost certainly not worth blogging about. But they both fell asleep before 8:30 which is a miracle, damn it, YOU HAVE TO BELIEVE ME. And none of this has anything to do with my camera, but I didn't have it (or even my phone) and that means you get this long, disjointed paragraph about a walk on the beach instead of just a snapshot of my two wee bairns clutching their stuffies on the bench with the pink sky in the distance.
Sometimes one blogs just for the sake of blogging, you know. It's a tiny flex of the writing muscle or sometimes even just a little stretch before sleeping. I read something somewhere about how reading people's uneventful blogs about family life (and laundry!) is like looking in their windows after dark when they've accidentally left the curtains open and seeing as I love that fishbowl glimpse into houses that I pass*, I figure I'm safe to one day (apparently today) blog about how I did three loads of laundry and then took a walk on the beach.
* Not in a creepy way, I swear.