The Wilson 6 Chronicles

One of the best things about our move to Florida is our close proximity to the beach. We can drive a few miles and be at the beach- a real beach. One with water that is clear enough to see the bottom of the ocean and water warm enough to not give you cold chills as soon as you step into it. And the kids love it. Actually, love it might just be an understatement. Alden wakes up everyday demanding "beach! beach!" and Eleanor starts to squeal as soon as we put her bathing suit on. And Zachary- that's a whole 'nother ball game- he has now decided that he is going to be professional surfer, open a surf shop, and love at the beach the rest of his life. As someone who liked the beach growing up, I had kind of had a falling out with it in the past few years. I mean, you likes grainy sand and cold ocean water- plus wearing a bathing suit. But watching Eleanor crawling towards to ocean like a baby turtle has renewed my love of the beach. What can be more fun that walking along the beach after a big storm with your pants rolled up because you decided to make a spur-of-the-moment trip to the beach to try to find shells. Zachary picking up the flat shells and trying to skip them across the water, Alden trying to go as deep into the surf as possible without getting in trouble, Eleanor tied on my back and kicking my ribs with excitement every time a wave comes crashing in, the sight of Justin with his pants rolled up to his knees trying to find a sand dollar. Some days, I think, life just doesn't get any better than this. Well, if they served margaritas on the beach, it might...