Only Worry in the World is the Tide Gonna Reach My Chair?

I have a theory that it is impossible to be in a bad mood when you are within sight, or sound, or even the salty marine smell of the ocean.  Something about it's rhythmic breaking of the waves on the sand, constant breeze, and vast size stretching out indefinitely until it melts into the horizon, makes it very restorative, and therapeutic to me.  It grounds me, and centers me, and fills me with a deep sense of peace.  I was in desperate need of time at the ocean.  The last time I saw it was in 2008 and the amazing perspective it gives me was slowly fading and weathering in the daily grind.  And I couldn't wait for Milani to get her first taste of salty ocean water, and golden sand.  A little part of me was certain she would love it since we discovered her name while honeymooning in Maui.  I mean, that practically makes her a Hawaiian baby.  A child of the black sand beaches, and lush palm trees.

My golden beach baby proved me right.  She's right at home covered in sand from head to toe, and doesn't hesitate to run right up and flirt with the breaking waves.

She got to spend time with cousins that she doesn't see nearly often enough, and she watched keenly as they collected shells, and played in the surf, and dug holes.

I don't entirely understand the fascination with digging holes at the beach, maybe its a boy thing, but sure enough as you scan down the shore, holes are constantly being dug and deepened and barricaded from the rising tide.  And another boy thing, or should I say father thing; swinging your fourteen month old daughter around like a monkey.  I cringe and envision a trip to the hospital with a dislocated shoulder, and I warn against the guilt he'll feel once her face is stained with salty, sandy tears.  But to no avail.  He loves to swing her and she loves to be swung.  She giggles and squeals and begs for more, and I just keep my fingers crossed that fooling won't lead to crying.

I love that at the beach, you are expected to do nothing other than enjoy yourself.  You can read a book, flip a magazine, play in the water or sand, nap lazily, talk about anything or talk about nothing.  There is no such thing as an awkward silence, just a break in conversation filled by the churning surf and the shriek of gulls and the innocent chatter of nearby children playing.

We took an afternoon to visit the Cape May Zoo.  This zoo found its way into our hearts the first summer Jon and I started dating.  During a short vacation in Stone Harbor that summer, we visited it not once, but twice.  It is one of the neatest, cleanest zoos we've ever visited.  Milani stared open mouthed and wide eyed as we visited the different animals.  (Apparently so did her father)

yes this is a goat laying under an umbrella

Interestingly, Milani's favorite animals on this vacation weren't the monkeys, or tigers, but the seagulls. She can reproduce the most realistic seagull squalk, and loved giggling and chasing them down the shore.

I think my girl is meant to be near the ocean and a part of her spirit is reignited by the waves, and I know Jon lights up at first sight of the ocean.  I think we need to make sure that we spend some time at the shore every summer, so that we can look out over the blue expanse of water and re-frame our lives with the humble perspective.  And because I'm absolutely certain that it's impossible to be in a bad mood at the shore.