He was unimpressed.
I should specify that J and I are in a (sometimes undignified) battle for LO's preferences. We are the poster children for opposites attracting, and each of us would like to see LO appreciate some of our favorite things. Cats vs. dogs, cake vs. pie, mountains vs. beach--these are the important decisions upon which our child's future hangs, and I had hoped that LO would immediately love the beach as I do.
To be fair, he was a fan of sitting in the sand and watching the huge bathtub. But as soon as the water touched him, he objected. J is chalking this up to LO inheriting this particular preference from him, but I think LO just needs some more beach exposure.
(Speaking of exposure, I do need to conduct a mini-rant about the lack of one piece bathing suits available. As a somewhat modest type who now overflows her prepregnancy bathing suit in an important chestal area and does not fill out her preggo suit in an important belly area, I was hoping to be able to find a one piece swim suit for our trip that could also serve as an athletic suit for when I swim at the Y. However, Target was only stocking one pieces made for old ladies. I passed on suits with skirts, suits with pockets and suits made out of mauve polyester. All in size Grandma. Once those had been eliminated, all that was left were suits made for cougars. They were either mauve tiger stripe, had jewelry in weird places [really--does there need to be a gold ring between anyone's breasts?], or they lifted and separated when no lifting and certainly no separating was in any way necessary. I went with the suit that looked least like it screamed "Why Billy, you seem to have missed a spot mowing the lawn..." and hoped for the best. You'll notice I posted a photo where you can see none of this suit.
Okay, rant concluded.)
Though LO was unsure of the whole ocean part of being at the beach, he was a fan of the sand. You gotta love being able to gum up non-beach toys with wet sand. And of course, he also enjoyed the wonderful sensation of having sand snake its way into and under all clothing worn to the beach.
(I have to tell you, you haven't lived until you've found sand in a diaper two days and at least one bath after a trip to the beach.)
I suspect next year we will go to the mountains. I can only hope that we will then have a picture of LO contemplating the glory that is the Rockies with a look of extreme apprehension on his face.