Sometimes, life is a real beach...

"There are black sand beaches...and white sand beaches..." I read out loud to my special ed. English class the school year of 2006-2007.
The boys snickered every time I said "beach" and it finally hit me that they thought it was pretty funny that it sounded like a bad word.

Unfortunately, Alex's first trip to the beach was neither black or white sanded and far from crystal clear water...but every kid in Texas should experience Galveston once in their lifetime.

I thought he would be timid or scared of the ocean, but nope...he ran right in.  It could be argued that he should have been a little more afraid because he was taken out by waves and went under multiple times.  Maybe in his mind he thinks he can swim, but he definitely cannot.  Near drowning was not enough to deter his excitement.

There was lots of sitting in the water and digging in muddy sand...
P.S. Don't wear anything white to Galveston (or the gulf coast in general)...it will not stay that way.  I try not to think of what I'm swimming in as I watch all the tankers on the horizon float by all day. 

People love to feed seagulls.
Other people around them pay for said feedings...

"Mine...mine...mine...mine...mine...mine..."

There might be more seaweed than sand in Galveston.  I watched a group of kids build a huge nest by layering seaweed and wet sand.  It was pretty cool, so we started our own layering.
That's as far as we got before losing interest. 

Buddha loved having Grandma and aunt Carol on the trip.  They were a huge help and since I was single parenting it up, I was thankful to have them there. 

I promise I made Alex wear a hat (he cried until he forgot he had it on and then cried again when he remembered...) in the sun.  We slathered on SPF 50 and I finally embraced wearing a hat and sunglasses...made me feel like a real adult.  It won't help undo the 30 years of sun worshiping but I can dare to dream...

We are peasant Koreans now, from the working class because we fail at staying fair.  

  

And what trip would be complete without eating?  We cracked some crab and I know you must be thinking that I let Alex eat gallons upon gallons of ice cream since that's pretty much every picture I post...and you're right.  He eats his weight in ice cream.  So do I.  God help us both if we're left alone with a bag of potato chips and a carton of Blue Bell.  No. Self. Control.

And lastly, my annoying voice making a monkey out of my child to perform.
I didn't film me throwing a fish in his mouth afterward...