Yon. And Hither.

This summer has been a terrible time for posting; there was way to much yon and not nearly enough hither. And the hither that did come was far too hot and sticky to be spent in any way other than drowning out the sounds of my kids with the whir of my blender as it introduced ice to tequila in its peculiar and violent way.

For her part, The Mom has been absent, working the kind of hours that most people only work when their jobs come with expense accounts at places named "Happy Endings." The twins are aware of her absence and enjoy passing the time hypothesizing about her whereabouts. Most of the time they agree that she lives at the train station, although sometimes they'll just point to a random house and declare that to be where their mom now resides. Through careful questioning, I have ascertained that their mom lives in these new places because our house is too small and it smells like feet.

One day last week, when Victoria awoke early enough to spy The Mom as she walked out the door, Victoria turned to me and exclaimed, "Look, Daddy, look! It's Mama!" Then her little toddler hand twisted the knife in her mother's heart when she ran out on the front porch and bawled, "Mama, will you visit us again soon?"

That morning The Mom left a trail of deep red blood all the way from our house to hers.

So Friday, The Mom took us all to the shore. And by that I mean she sat down that morning at my computer and said, "Come get me when everyone is sunscreened and in the car. And don't forget coffee."

The shore was brilliant. As any long time reader of this site knows, I'm not adept at writing about actual good times with my kids, but a good time this was. For a whole day we attacked that beach, running and swimming and building and destroying. The sea was surprisingly choppy, and Kathryn stood out in it for hours as wave after wave battered her tiny frame. "That was nothing!" she'd roar out to sea after each one crested over her. "A big bottle of nothing!" Then she'd get pounded off her feet by the next wave and resurface ten feet away, sputtering and coughing up sea water, but that's just because she's seven and hasn't yet learned to stop talking while underwater.

As much as Kathryn couldn't be pulled away from the water, the twins couldn't be pulled from their mother. Not that I tried, mind you. And thus I was free to spend my time doing what I wanted. Like digging a big ol' hole in the sand and then finding a seven-year-old that fit into it perfectly.

We stayed on the beach for almost seven hours, until Kathryn could barely stand and the twins were seconds away from losing their minds with the fun of it all. It was Lila who finally called the whole thing to a halt by gently whimpering the word "home" and then adhering her face to my wife's shoulder using her patented mixture of tears and snot. So home we went, where for the rest of the Labor Day weekend, The Mom stayed put. Even if it smelled like feet.

Comments

[dave]

Every year as my kids get older the beach gets better and better - my 7 year old was in love with the big waves too, though with the wisdom that comes from the passing of time (2 days later) he declared he was never coming back because the water was too rough. But I am sure that the promise of a little Beach Plum ice cream will draw him back next year...

[Joy]

I just want to point out that you have officially become a Jerseyite (Jerseyoid? Joiseyboid?). Everyone else in the world goes to the beach, but in New Jersey you go to the shore. Go figure.

[Jonathan's Mum]

Ack! Joy is RIGHT, the Dad. You are a bonafide Jersey Boy now!! Pretty soon, you'll be asking other Jerseyites, "Yee-ah? What exit?"

Of course, this will all be thrown right back at me from The Dad, as I now live in NJ too ... sigh. Exit 151.

[Kelly]

What a wonderful story of your time at the beach. Thank you for writing it.

[John]

Ahhh. I can't quite believe it but you're post actually made me nostalgic for NJ. I grew up there - Exit 9. (Jonathan's Mum, when people refer to exits it's ALWAYS Turnpike exits, please.) For the last 17 years, I've been in MA - Exit 12. (That doesn't work AT ALL.) I miss the shore. The Cape is not that same at all. I'm glad you guys had a good time.

[Dog Mom]

mmmm...feet

[Jonathan's Mum]

LOL John! In that case, I have NO idea what exit I live off of!! I really need to get a map.

[Dan Hughes]

Sounds like a great day

[The Mom]

"The Mom took us all to the shore. And by that I mean she sat down that morning at my computer . . ."
Hrumph!

[The Godfather]

I was just reading your FAQ, and since you put that line in about Google searches of "hot kinky twin fantasy", your site comes up as #1 for that search on Google!

[The Dad]

Yes, I'm now a New Jerseyite. Hell, two of my daughters were born here, so I'd better get used to it. It's not like I can continue to pin all my hopes on the one that was born in Austin, especially considering how close she came to drowning on Friday.

And The Godfather, seriously, you do not want to know what other Google searches lead people here, particularly when it's your little cutie up there on the masthead.

[Sweet Mary Sunshine]

Congratulations on a day out of the house and on the "shore." And congratulations on having a pleasant story to share. I hope you get more time with The Mom included this month.

[Amy]

And what was The Godfather doing Googling "hot kinky twin fantasy," mmmmm?

Actually, after a horrified shudder at the thought of some sweaty, horny guy even gazing upon a photo of my daughter (Miss August 17), I'm rather amused by the thought of his response once he sees what's actually here. Who knows, maybe a porn-addicted soul or two will be led gently to more wholesome pleasures* by a well-timed stumble onto this blog.

*E.g., admiring cute babies, snarking at one's spouse, and bitching about parenthood

[Petunia]

You're practically a Jersey native now -- you used "shore" rather than "beach." But a true native says "down the shore." Not "beach;" not "down TO the shore." Oh, no, never. And also, we don't go into the "sea." It's da ocean. I was born in Newark, grew up in Ocean County. I know this stuff. Sure glad you had a great day with the family. - P

[Another Mom]

Please tell The Mom that I feel her pain. I'm also work long hours and am married to a SAHD. My kids have been known to ask me (on the phone, while I'm chained to my desk), "Are you going to come live with us?" When I am at home, my 4 year old exclaims "Mommy, you're here!" every time I walk in the room. And when I'm around for more than a few hours, she sometimes asks me "Mommy, you on vacation?". (My husband can barely contain his snickers that my going to the office every day *is* a vacation.)

[Polly]

So very glad you all had a bit of respite, though of course in the process of conveying it, you disproved your claim that " I'm not adept at writing about actual good times with my kids."

Love the image of Kathryn bobbing up and down and smacked around, talking through it all the while.

Am unnerved, though, by the *Goodbye, Mr. Lawrence* image in the sand there. There's trust for you.

[Angela]

Sounds like you had a perfect day. Kids + sand + water = less painful wounds to the knife in the heart. I hope The Mom also had a lovely time.

We were also very lucky that we spent a lot of time near the beach this summer, it was heavenly. I absolutely love the photo. Thank you for once again making me laugh, I really needed it.