Now that all of our kids are a little older (BeYoYo is the youngest, at 3) it also means other people can take care of them. Our annual beach trip has always been a little bit of a commune experience with everybody pitching in for everybody, but it felt like even more so this year. The cousins want to be together, but sometimes they want to be doing different things. So I'd take one of mine and one of someone else's to the pool, someone else would be at the beach with one of mine and one of theirs, and someone else would have two of theirs and one of someone else's on the way to town. And there was always a body that needed sunscreening, a mouth that needed wiping, and goggles that needed adjusting. You could open a business at the beach just applying sunscreen and adjusting goggles to other people's kids. I'd pay for that.
 |
| not her kid |
 |
not his kid  |
 |
| not my kid (in fairness, I didn't ask her to stop using her fork as a hairbrush at a restaurant, I just took a picture of it for my own entertainment) |
And whenever we're all together, the sisters in law are continually counting children under our breath. We enjoy each other, so it's one part conversation, one part counting kids, and one part helping the children not hurt each other. "1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7...... yeah, I agree, that one blogger is ridiculous with what she feeds her kids. My kids would starve if I served them beets and tomatoes.....1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6.......oh, 7........ Don't jump on top of him, you've got to wait until he's out of the way before you jump in! 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, ......who are we missing......where's BeYoYo? Oh, there he is, he was peeing over on the side.....So, how's your mama doing? 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7."
The it-takes-a-village dynamic was never more present than when The Boy stepped on a cactus. Actually, it might have been stronger about 30 seconds later when his brother ALSO stepped on a cactus. We saw 3 cacti the whole time we were at the beach, and my kids managed to step on two of them. We were leaving our beach house and headed down to the beach, and The Boy was going to run and catch up with some cousins ahead of us. He took a short cut through the grass and screamed for me to come help. Not knowing why he was screaming, I didn't hurry, because you know the mom has to carry 100 things down to the beach and I was gathering all our stuff. Then the screaming intensified, and I realized BeYoYo was now screaming too. I put down the stuff and ran to The Boy, who had one of these dangling down from his foot. He was hopping and screaming, shrieking, crying in pain, and crying again when he'd look at it.
Uncle Grant grabbed BeYoYo and I pulled the cactus out of The Boy's foot. He screamed and pushed against me, unappreciative of the spur going in or out. After I got the cactus out, there were still multiple additional spurs sticking in him. But BeYoYo was also screaming with cacti stuck in him, and he was sitting in uncle Grant's lap in the driveway crying for his mama. The Husband had already gone to the beach and was unaware that any of this was going on. So I told The Boy to wait a minute and I went to tend to BeYoYo. Meanwhile, aunt Rachel picked up The Boy and took him inside to get tweezers. He continued to scream. While Grant held BeYoYo I started helping him pull spurs out too. Grant would point one out to me and hold the foot still, I would use my fingernails to get a good grip and yank it out, and BeYoYo would wail. When we got most of HIS spurs out I went inside to check on the status of the boy.
I heard him wailing before I saw him. I followed the sound upstairs, where I saw him on the sofa surrounded by cousins, Aunt Rachel, and Bebe. His Papa was holding him and holding some very serious tweezers that looked more like scissors. Papa was simultaneously trying to hold him, convince him to cooperate, and trying to remove the remaining spurs with the tweezers. I'm not sure The Boy understood what was happening, because he was wailing "NOOOOO! Don't cut me! Don't cut me!" in his most panicked fight or flight voice, and he was both fighting and flighting what I can only imagine he assumed to be some sort of medieval torture device. He was using all his might to try to get away, thrashing around like an animal that has just been hit by a car and doesn't know where safety is. His family was surrounding him, offering him words of encouragement, but it was not going well for anyone. I busted up that party and he reached for me to save him. I carried him downstairs, away from the crowd, to try to calm him. It was only partially successful, as he did still have multiple spurs in his foot. He yelled "WHYYYYYY are there cactus at the BEEEEEACH?" and sobbed "Tonight I'm going to tell God that I hate cactus and I wish he'd never made them!" I told him he didn't have to wait until tonight, he could tell God right then, but that did not help. We set about to the difficult task at hand though neither of us really wanted to be involved.
I will spare you all the details, but suffice it to say eventually he and I decided that I would go to the beach and he would stay up at the beach house with Papa. I regathered the beach things that I'd abandoned earlier and headed down to meet the rest of the fam. Grant had soaked BeYoYo's feet in the pool and taken him down to the beach with his crew. I felt like I'd just survived an explosion and was questioning if it had really happened. I had no idea if 15 minutes had passed or an hour and a half. When I got down to the beach to join the others, Rachel and Danielle had my chair ready, as well as a can of wine. They are the best sister-wives because they take care of me in addition to my kids. We resumed our counting of children and vacation continued post-minor-medical-emergency.
And of course we did the annual Magness family beach pictures, which were disastrous as usual. Imagine 8 adults all yelling orders for seven children to go in four different directions, and you'll get the idea. "You're standing in her shadow, no the light isn't good right there, let go of his hand, why are you holding a stick? Put the stick down. No, don't throw it. What are you doing? Turn around. No, not you, your brother. I know it's hot, I'm hot too. The sooner you cooperate the sooner we go in. Look over here, look at the camera, now SMILE!"
 |
| Right after this one there were tears about the removal of sunglasses |
And this is what happened when I was trying to take BeYoYo's picture and uncle Garth said "who wants ice cream?" This is a child who knows he's invited to that party.
This next one I've zoomed in on, to show you the full effect. These children were supposed to be ready for the camera. There were even jelly bean rewards involved. AND THIS IS WHAT WE GET. I've got 3 good shots from the beach and dozens of pictures like this one.
 |
I just looked through all our beach pictures, and I think this last one was my very favorite. Unpolished. Not smiling. Dirty. Skeptical. Unicorn horns, complaints, and pleas. It's the most accurate portrayal of our week. If only it had sound (so much sound) you might get a feel for spending a week with 7 under 10 this year.
