Ada has spent the last three days double-fisting handfuls of sand into her mouth. I've been trying to practice my Italian and have spent the last three days saying "La bambina mangia la sabbia." The child is a beach baby through and through. She's not only unperturbed by grit in her mouth and in every crease of her body, she launches herself into belly flops and rolls towards the surf. And the chilly ocean water? Not an issue. Splashing is a new favorite past-time.
It took me a long time to sunscreen her on Monday. So long, in fact, that by the time I was done I figured, I must have just sunscreened several people, including myself. Wrong. I can't remember a sunburn this bad.
I've wished several times this trip that I would have brought my journal. It's been so long since I've had anything to write (or the motivation to write anything) but I feel like all this time of calm--watching the waves roll in while Ada sleeps in the shade and Mikey reads or naps--has given me time to pause and reflect a little.
Maybe I'll just type out my reflections in a word document and paste it my journal in later.
I can't believe my baby will be six months old tomorrow. It sort of makes me want to cry.