We just got back from a couple of days at the beach with my family.  They rented a house at Rehoboth Beach in Delaware for the week, and since they rented a house that sleeps 18 or so, we went along for the weekend.  (Not sure why they rented such a big place, though actually it isn’t as big as it sounds.  But anyway.)

Beauty does not take well to traveling, and she got increasingly clingy and fussy as time went on, refusing to be held by anyone but Hero or me.  Babies tend to regress under stress (don’t we all?) so she wouldn’t sleep if she couldn’t touch me, and forget about feeding herself new solids.  (She’s still recovering; today and probably tomorrow will need to be super-low-key for her, with lots and lots of comfort nursing.)

But it was really nice – the weather was perfect, the beach was literally half a block away, we came up with some really yummy dinners and walked down the boardwalk for ice cream each evening.  (I tried a sample of “Better than Sex” ice cream.  It wasn’t.)  Beauty got to eat sections of a huge cantaloupe, throwing herself at each chunk as it was held for her and immersing her whole body in the sensation: back straining to push her mouth into the melon, fists clenched, toes curling.  I stared at the ocean waves and let the beautiful harmony of a chaotic system relax my brain.  We went to the bay with my youngest sister and my brother and spent a happy hour splashing in the shallows, spotting fish and chasing crabs and listening to the baby tell long and involved stories to the shells we handed her.  I helped my mom figure out dinner and listened to my sister practice her Bat Mitzvah portion and it was good to be with family.

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